■If
■'' V i
Studies in Education
SCIENCE, ART, HISTORY
BY
B. A. HINSDALE, Ph.D., LL.D.
Professor of the Science and the Art of Teaching in the University of
Michigan; Author of "President Garfield and Education," "Schools
AND Studies," "The Old Northwest," "How to Teach and
Study History," "The American Government," "Jesus
as a Teacher," and Editor of "The Works
OF James Abram Garfield."
/ ZSB£
CHICAGO NEW YORK
Werner School Book Company
Copyright. 1896. by B. a. HINSDALE
Zo tbe /IDembers of tbe Battonal Council of
]£&ucation:
The papers that are here brought together and stamped
with the title "Studies in Education," in the range of
their dates just cover the period of my association with
you in what we familiarly call Tun Council : 1885-
1895. Several of these papers were written as contri-
butions to our discussions, and all of them have been
influenced directly or indirectl}'' b}^ those discussions.
It seems to me fitting, therefore, that I should inscribe
the volume to j'ou. In so doing, I wish to bear witness
to the great service that the Council has rendered me in
stimulating and guiding my studies of educational sub-
jects, and in the formation of lasting friendships. Bsio
perpetua.
B. A. HINSDALE.
The University op Michigan,
Januar}' 15, 1896.
hiOS KHGBUBS
PREFACE.
In 1885 I published a volume of papers, mainl}- edu-
cational, under the general title of "Schools and Studies."
These papers were selected from a much larger number
written in the years 1870-1885. Here I publish a sim-
ilar selection from essays and addresses written during
the last ten years, under a title that fits almost as loosely.
Many of them have been already published in some
form, but not all. In preparing them for this volume,
some have been abridged and some expanded, while
all have been more or less revised in st5"le. A single
paper — the one that heads the column — has been
written for the volume. The earlier volume was sent
out in the hope that, in this time of great educational
activity, it might serve a good purpose. That hope is
now expressed anew.
My thanks are given to the editor and publishers of
"The Educational Review" for permission to reprint the
papers that are credited to that publication.
B. A. H.
CONTENTS.
I. SOURCES OF PIUMAN CULTIVATION.
The Problem of Human Cultivation, 13; DiflSculty of the Problem,
13-14; Elementary Facts of the Mental Life, 14-16; Pedagogi-
cal Metaphors, 16-19; Causes of Mental Growth Divided Into
Two Groups, 19 ; The Primary Group : Facts of Nature,
the Actions of Men, Facts of the Mind, 19-24; Th$ Primary
Sources of Cultivation and Their Relations, 24-25 ; The
Secondary Group : Oral Language, Arts and Inventions,
Symbols, Writing, 25-26; Remarks on this Group, 27-38;
School Studies Determined in Great Part by Logic of Life, 39;
Child's Store of Knowledge and Store of Language when He
Comes to School, 39-40; Child's Development to Continue on
Both Lines, 40; All Sources of Knowledge to be Drawn upon,
40-41; Arts of the School to be Taught, 41 42; Changes in
Education, 42; Narrowness of View the Danger of the Pres-
ent, 42-43.
II. THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DIvSCIPLINE.
The Dogma Defined, 44; Committee of Ten and Other Authorities
Quoted, 44-46; Analogous Facts in Physical Sphere, 46-47;
Relations of Body and Mind, 48; Convertibility of Cognition,
Feeling, and Will, 48-49; Convertibility of Intellectual Activ-
ities, 49-55; Applications of Conclusions Reached, 55-59,
Recapitulation, 59; Origin of the Dogma of Formal Disci-
phne, 60 61.
III. THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE AND ENERGY
APPLIED TO SOME PEDAGOGICAL PROBLEMS.
Congruence Defined, 62; Bodily Activities as Congruous or Incon-
gruous, 63; Physical and Psychic States as Congruous or In-
congruous, 63; Fundamental Psychic Elements as Congruous
or Incongruous, 64-67; Pedagogical Rules Deduced from the
Survey, 68; Intellectual Activities as Congruous or Incongru-
7
CONTENTS.
ous, ()9-70; :Mutual Opposition auil Reciprocal Aid, 70-72;
Principles of Congruence Involve Selection and Grouping of
Studies, 72-73; Laws of Mental Energy Stated, 72-73; Rules
of Teaching Deduced, 74-77; Laws of Specific and Generic
Power Stated and Applied, 77-80; The Teacher and the Text-
Book, SO-84; College and University Electives, 84-86; Gradu-
ate Studv, 8G-88; Over-Specialization, 88-90.
TV, THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING.
Science and Art Defined, 91-92; Two Aspects of Art. 92-95; Theo-
retical Relations of Science and Art, 95-96; Knowing and
Doing, 9t;-99; The Greek and Roman "Arts," 99-100; Practi-
cal Relations of Science and Art, 100-103; Reasons why
Teachers should vStudy the. Science of Teaching, 103-105;
Reasons why Teachers Should vStudy the Art of Teaching,
^05-107; Order of Theoretical and Practical Courses in Peda-
gogy, 108-110; The Practice School, 110-112
V. "CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION.
Introduction, 113; "Calvinism" Stated by President Eliot, 114;
Work and Play, 115-118; Conception of Training Involves the
Hard and Disagreeable, 118-122; President Eliot on "What
Everybody Ought to Know," 122-123; President Eliot on
Averaging and Uniformity, 123-127; Archdeacon Farrar on
Variety of Talents, 127; Cultivation of this Variety, 127-133;
Order Considered, 133-135: Power to Govern and to Teach,
135-1.37; The Teacher Question, 1.37.
VI. PRE-^TDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION.
President Eliot's " I'orum " Article Summarized, 138-139; The
Indictment Embraces Modern Progress, 139-140; How Far
True, 140-143; The Panacea Tendency, 143-144; Tendency to
Exalt Human In.stitutions, 144-145; Tendency to Exaggerate
the _Functif)ns of the School, 145-146; Its True Function, 146-
149; 0])erations of the Mind that Education Should Develop,
149; I'ailure of the Ivlementary School Charged, 1.50-151;
Defects of Secondary and Higher Education, 151-152; President
liliot's Prescription, 152-1.53; Observations on, 15.3-160; Stan-
dard of Education the Abilitv to Deal with .Social and Political
Problems. 160; Difficulty of Such Problems, 160-163; Feeling
and Will Factors in Human Affairs, 163-1(14.
CONTENTS, 9
VIL THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR IN THE UNIVERSITY
AND COLLEGE.
The Pedagogical Chair in Germany, Scotland, and the United
States, 166; Definitions of Education, 167-169; Research and
Teaching Fundamental Functions of the University, 169; Edu-
cation as a Science, 169; Duty of the University to Investigate,
169-170; Duty to Investigate Siibject of Education, 170-171;
Practical Phases of the Subject, including the Duty of the
University to Furnish Society with Teachers, 171-178; History
of Teaching in the Old Universities, 179-181. . ^
VIII. THE CULTURE VALINE OF THE HISTORY OF EDU-
CATION.
What is Meant by the "Culture Value," 182-183; Educational
Systems a Branch of Law and of Institutional History, 183-
184; Educational Systems Born of Philosophies, Religions,
Civilizations, with Examples, 184-190; Reflex Influence of
Education upon Civilization, 191-192; Value of Educational
Intelligence, 192; Ignorance of Education of Educated Men,
193; Defect of Books of Historv, 19.3-194; Cautionary Remark,
195-196.
IX. THE TEACHER'S PREPARATION.
The Teacher must Understand the Ends of Teaching, 197-198; The
Fundamental Facts of Education, 198-199; The Teacher's Func-
tion, 190-200; The Two Aspects of Knowledge, Academical
and Professional, 200-201; Distribution of Emphasis, 201-202;
Academical Preparation not Sufficient, 203; Must Precede
Professional, 203-20-3.
X. HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS.
Report of Conference on History to the Committee of Ten, 206;
Nature and Growth of Mind, 206-207; Secondary Educational
Agents, 207-208; History Deals with Actions of Men, 208; The
Record of Human Experience, 209; Educational Value of, 209;
Should Receive more Attention in the Schools, 210; At what
Time to be Introduced, 211; Ziller's Double Series, 211-212;
Historial Value of Stories, 212-213: Programme of the Con-
ference, 213-214; Programme of Elementary Schools of Baden,
214; Advantages of German Teaching over American Teach-
ing, 21.5; Order of Topics, 215-216; Facts the Staple of History,
217; Comparative View of English and American Students,
217-219; Intensive Study of a Period or Subject, 219-220; Co-
ordination, 220; Teaching Civics, 220-221; Value of Vernacu-
lar Studies, 221-222.
lO CONTENTS.
XI. THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF
CHILDREN.
Apperception Defined, 223-224; Illustrated, 225-226; Influence oi'
Environment on the Mind, 226; Conclusions Flowing from
Doctrine of Apperception, 227-230; Material Things and Spir-
itual Ideas, 2.31; Three Spheres in which Religion Moves, 231-
232; Origin of Moral and Civic Habits and Ideas, 232-234; Re-
lation of Religion to Ethics, 235; Rousseau's Ideas, 235-237;
Need of Positive Teaching. 237; Words of Admonition, 237-
23!i; Intellectual Apparatus that Directly Affects the vSpiritual
Life Simple, 2.39; Material for Spiritual Instruction, 240; Pru-
dential Remarks, 241-243.
XII. PAYMENT BY RESULTS.
Beginniugs of Popular Education in England, 244-245; Govern-
ment Intervention, 245-246; Government Inspectorship of
vSchools, 246; The ''Code," 247; Origin of Payment by Results.
247-249 ; Dissatisfaction with Existing Svstem of Popular
Education, 249; Elementary Education Act of 1870, 249-250;
Features of the Act, 250-251 ; Payment bv Results Explained,
251-254; The Principle Characterized by Matthew Arnold, 254;
Working of, 254-256; Consequences if the vSystem Should be
Established in the United States, 257.
XIII. THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS.
Character of the School System of a Republican State, 258-259;
Relations of the People to the Schools, 259; Schools as an Or-
ganization of Business and as an Organization of In.struction,
21)0-262; Constitution and Powers of the Board, 262-265; Selec-
tion of Board Members, 265-2()9; Mode of Board Administra-
tion, including Executive Departments, 269-272; Plan Recom-
mended would Lead to Reforms, 272-273.
XIV. THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPP:RINTENDENT.
Status of the Superintendency, 272-273; Supervision of Schools
Originally Exerci.sed by School Committees and Boards, 273-
275; The Principal or Master, 275; Visiting Committees, 276;
Increasing Comjjlexity of School Systems Leads to P^iller Or-
ganization, 27<')-277; The High School as a h'actor in vSchool
Organiz.'ition, 277-27.S; Dr. Fitch on Powers and Duties of Su-
])erinten(lents, 27.S-279; Powers and Duties of tlie Su])erinten-
dent not Defined by Law, 279-280; P'uller Specialization to be
Anticipated, 280-281; Pedagogical Superintendents and Busi-
CONTENTS. 1 1
ness Superintendents, 281; Future Movements along These
Unes, 281-282; In Large Cities, 282-283; In Small Cities, 283-
285.
XV. THE EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN
STATE.
The Progress of Democracy in State and Church, 289-291; In Edu-
cation, 291-295; How Shall the People be Educated? 295; Co.st
of Education in the United States, 295-296; Voluntary Effort
Inadequate, 296-298; Failure of Voluntary Effort in England,
298-302; Only the State can Make Education Uniyersal, 302;
Educational Expenditures of England and France, 303; Char-
aracter of the Modern State, 30-l: What State Education
Means, 305-309; Difference betAyeen the Ancient and the Mod-
ern State, 309-310; Archbishop Ireland on Public Education
Quoted, 310-311; Democratic Spirit of ]\Iodern Education, 311-
312.
XVI. SOME vSOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION
IN THE UNITED vSTATES
Montesquieu Quoted, 313; Relation of Education to Civil Society
as a Whole, 314-315; Areas of Territory Occupied by Certain
Maxitna and Minivia of Population, 316-317; Economical Sig-
nificance of the Statistics, 317-318; Educational Significance,
318-321; Means of Communication, 321; North Atlantic and
South Atlantic States Considered in Respect to Density of Pop-
ulation, 322-323; City Population. 324; City Population as an
Educational Factor, 324-325; The Race Question in Education,
325-328; Value of Property in the United States, 328-329; Ed-
ucational Bearings of its Distribution, 330-332; Ratio of Adult
Males to Population, 332; Illiteracy, 333-334; Comparative
Statistics of North Atlantic and South Atlantic States, 335-
336; Reflections Suggested bv, 336-338.
XVII. TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME.
Church of S. Clemente, History of, 3.39-340; A Type of Rome, 341;
Human Questions Presented to the Visitor to Rome, 341-342;
Introduction of Public vSchools, 342; First Year of Public
Schools, 343; Gro\yth of the System, 343-344; Historical View
of 1890, 344-345; Educational Expenditures, 346; The School
Regina Margherita; 347-348; Elementary Instruction in Italy
Compared with Germany, 348; Salaries of Teachers, 349; De-
crease of Illiteracy, 350.
12 CONTENTS.
XVIII. RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN THE SCHOOLS OF
GERMANY.
.A theism, Skepticism, etc., in Germany, Zr)2; Not Due to Lack of
Religious Teaching in the Schools, .S5.S; Schools of Saxony and
Prussia, S.">8; The Saxon Course in Religion, 'i'A-Si'Ar, Course
Compulsory, 3oG; Royal Decrees of Prussia, 8.57; State Church
Iilea, .%8; Confessional Schools, .>'J8-359; Moral Results Con-
sidered, .859-3(50; The Established Churches, 360-3G3; Charac-
ter of Religious Teaching, 363; Relation of Dogma and Life,
363-364; German System a Failure in Prussia, 365; The Bible
in American vSchools, 366.
XIX. EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND.
The Swiss Centennials of 1891, 367; History of Culture in Switzer-
land, 367-368; Education a Matter of Federal and Cantonal
Concern, 368; Provisions of Federal Constitution, 368-369;
The Polytechnicum at Ziirich, .3t)9; Compulsion, 369-370;
Cantons Compared, 371-372; Educational Stati.stics, 372-373;
Teachers and Inspectors, 373-374; School Control, 374; Salaries,
374-375.
XX. THE HACK\VARI)NP:SS OF POPULAR EDUCATION IN
ENGLAND.
The Problem Stated, 376; The Established Church, 376-.377; Aris-
tocracy, 377-378; The Character of the P^nglish Mind, 378-380;
The Universities, .380; The Word "Revolution," 380-381;
Oxford, 381-:'>82; Individual Initiative, .'582; Mr. Bryce's
Simile, 383; Different Course of PC vents in the Northern King-
dom, 383-384.
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
I.
SOURCES OF HUMAN CULTIVATION.
O other transformation that men are permitted
to witness is so marked in character as the
transformation wrought in the mind of one of
their own number in his passage from feeble
infancy to the maturity of adult life. No other is so in-
teresting, so important, or so necessary to be understood.
The seed and the plant, the egg and the bird, are not tc
be mentioned in comparison. Only one transformation
that history presents to our view is worthy to be com-
pared to it, and that is the analogous transformation seen
in the life of a tribe or a society of men as it passes from
low savagery to high civilization. The causes that effect
this transformation in the individual man I propose to
examine, offering also some remarks on the transforma-
tion itself In other words, I am about to map out the
territory covered by the phrase, "Human Cultivation."
It is first to be observed that the subject presents diffi-
culties that are in part insuperable. The cultivation of
the individual begins in the mysterious region of infancy;
and as no memory of what occurred, in this region in our
own case remains, and as the infant can give us no account
whatever of his own experience, and would not be an in-
fant if he could, we are thrown back upon our own
observation for facts and our own interpretation of the
facts observed. But such observation and interpretation
14 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
are peculiarly difficult. Facts of the spirit are the most
subtile and elusive of all facts, and particularly those of
the infant spirit. With great reason has it been asked:
Who can tell what a baby thinks ?
Who can follow the gossamer links
By which the manikin feels his way
Out from the shore of the great unknown,
Blind, and wailing, and alone,
Into the light of day ?
What does he think of his mother's eyes?
What does he think of his mother's hair?
What of the cradle-roof that flies
Forward and backward through the a-. ?
What does he think of his mother's breast —
Bare and beautiful, smooth and white,
Seeking it ever with fresh delight —
Cup of his life and couch of his rest?
What does he think when her quick embrace
Presses his hand and buries his face
Deep where the heart-throbs sink and swell.
With a tenderness she can never tell ?
But the fact that we are unable to answer these ques-
tions fully is no excuse for not making the best answer
that we can. Let us then begin with the most elementary
facts of the mental life.
The first of these is the mind itself. While we are
iniable to tell what the mind is, we readily discover
some very interesting things about it. First, it is
active, self-active as the philosophers say, and this activ-
ity is its characteristic attribute. Through its activity
the mind grows or expands; or, to express the same fact
in other language, it accumulates experience or gath-
ers knowledge. The mind is one, a unit, and has no
parts, but it acts in several different fields or spheres, or
has a variety of experiences, and in this way its so-called
HUMAN CULTIVATION. I5
powers or faculties are developed. Again, the mind grows
or acquires knowledge only through its activit}'. And
still further, the mental growth or accumulation that
comes in this wa3Mve call cultivation and education, using
those terms in their broadest sense.
The mind cannot act, ard so cannot grow, if it is left
to itself. Mental activity depends upon stimulation or
excitation, and this can come in the first instance only
from the outside. An object to be known is as essential to
knowledge as a mind to know. Accordingh', the second
elementary fact to be considered is some reality external
to the mind itself — what is sometimes called the world.
Perhaps some would pause here. But it will conduce to
clearness to recognize a third fundamental educational
condition. This is the mind and reality in contact. The
speculative relation of the two factors we may leave to the
metaphysicians; the practical fact of contact we must
emphasize. Until such relation is established, there is no
mental activity, and so no mental growth; the moment it
is established, activity begins, and, progressively, the
mind knows, objects are known, knowledge begins to
exist, and education takes its ri.se.
Properly speaking, knowledge has no existence outside
of the mind; it is a continuous state of mind; if mind
should cease to know, knowledge would cease to exist. ^
'"But Casaubon's books, whatever their worth, were not the
man. The scholar is greater than his books. The result of his
labors is not so many thousand pages in folio, but himself The
'Paradise L,ost' is a grand poem, but how much grander was the
living soul that spoke it! Yet poetry is much more of the essence
of the soul, is more nearly a transcript of the poet's mind, than
a volume of 'notes' can be of the scholar's mind. It has been
often said of philosophy that it is not a doctrine but a method.
No philosophical sj'stems, as put upon paper, embody philosophy.
Philosophy perishes in the moment that you would teach it.
Knowledge is not the thing known, but the mental habit which
knows. So it is with learning." — Mark Pattison: Isaac Casait-
bon, p. 488.
l6 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Men do indeed speak of books and libraries as containing
knowledge. What books and libraries do in fact contain,
is s\-mbols of knowledge that are dead and meaningless
until they are read by a mind that knows them. However,
as usage justifies the objective sense of the word, and it is
convenient, we may use knowledge in that signification.
The relation of knowledge to the mind may properly
occup)' our attention a little longer. That such a
relation exists, men must have discovered the moment
that knowledge became the subject of reflection, and
they expressed the fact in the only way that was open
to them. The relation is a philosophical idea, and they
conceived it, as they conceived other philosophical ideas,
under a physical image. The conception of knowledge is
governed by the conception of the mind and is represented
in the same way. Philosoph}^ having, for reasons that
are here immaterial, no vocabulary of its own, borrows
one from physics and then proceeds to spiritualize it.
Some examples of this process will emphasize the fact and
also help on the general inquiry.
One of the earliest and best educational metaphors
makes the mind an organism and knowledge food for its
nourishment. Sometimes it is assumed to resemble a
plant and .sometimes an animal. This is the most common
way of representing knowledge or doctrine in the Bible.
The man who meditates in the law of the lyord is like a tree
planted by the rivers of water that brings forth its fruit in
its season. Di.sciples who have neglected their opportuni-
ties to learn have need of milk and not of strong meat.
Every one that u.ses milk is a babe, while strong meat
belongs to them that are of full age. The underlj-ing idea
is that of growth or development. As a new-born babe,
the disciple should desire the pure milk of the word that
he may grow thereby. The terms that are employed to
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
17
represent this view of education are considerably varied.
The mind "hungers" and "thirsts"; it "digests" and
"assimilates;" it is "nourished" and "strengthened,"
while the teacher ' 'feeds' ' the pupil. It is in this way that
the New Testament presents the relation of the minister to
the church. He is a pastor or shepherd, and is enjoined to
feed his flock. The metaphors that fall into this group
may be called biological metaphors, as they are sug-
gested by the phenomena of life.
A second group of pedagogical metaphors, almost as
common as the biological ones, are derived from archi-
tecture. The mind is a structure or edifice that is ' 'built, ' '
"constructed," or "formed"; knowledge is building-
material; the teacher is an artificer, and his educational
ideal is a plan or model. According to this conception,
the mind has a foundation, apartments, stories, and win-
dows (although this last metaphor is used also when
knowledge is considered as light). This imagery is also
of frequent use in the Bible. The terms ' ' building "and
' ' temple ' ' are used to symbolize the Church and also the
individual Christian. An Apostle likens himself to a
' ' wise master-builder. ' ' Great stress is laid on ' ' edifica-
tion" and "edifjdng," or "upbuilding;" charity "edi-
fies." The statement, "He that speaks (that is, in
the church) edifieth himself " recognizes the pedagogical
truth that to teach is an excellent way to learn — a truth
that has been repeated times without number from an-
cient days.
Thirdly, mental growth is pictured in language
that properly belongs to physical exercise; excitement of
some kind stimulates a muscle or nerve to action, and
this again stimulates nutrition. But this nutrition does
more than simply supply the waste that activity has
caused; the muscle or nerve is strengthened or enlarged.
l8 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
The words " exercise " and " discipline," and even " ac-
tivity " itself, fall into this category. Here we meet all
the pedagogical metaphors that are furnished by the
gymnasium and the playground. Very naturally, con-
sidering their peculiar genius, and especially their view
of physical perfection, the Greeks made this a favorite
mode of representing pedagogical facts and ideas, just as
it was natural that the Latins, with their peculiar genius,
should draw their educational vocabulary mainly from
agriculture and war.
Warfare has made its contribution to the pedagogical
vocabulary. " Drill " comes to us from this source, and
so does " education" itself. This last means etymologic-
ally to " draw out " or to " lead out," and it was orig-
inally applied to physical acts merely. Thus, a soldier
"educates" his sword from its sheath, and a general
" educates " his army in battle array.
These are a few of the many pedagogical metaphors.
There has been some discussion of the relative values of
the several groups. The truth is that no analogical theory,
nor all such theories together, exhaust the content of
mind and education. These metaphors are but adumbra-
tions of spiritual facts that we are unable to express fulh'.
The mechanical analogies balance the biological ones,
and vice versa: but the mind is neither a seed nor a build-
ing, or a combination of both ; neither is the teacher a
gardener or a carpenter, or half one and half the other.
The pedagogical metaphors all present interesting phases or
facets of the one grand process and result ; they supplement
and correct one another; but they present the mind as a
kaleidoscope and not as a living unity. We may observe
further that the Engli.sh language, owing to its compos-
ite character, is particularly rich in pedagogical terms,
so that the Engli.sh-speaking teacher is able to look at his
HUMAN CULTIVATION. I9
work, through his own speech, from more points of view
than any other teacher.
The causes of mental stimulation, and so of mental
growth, are divisible into two great groups, the primary
and the secondar}-.
I. THE PRIMARY GROUP.
These require, at the present stage of the discussion,
no general characterization. They are divisible into three
sub-groups.
1. Facts of Nature; External Realities. — Every material
object presents to the mind one or more points of con-
tact, and as soon as the mind seizes upon one of them
that marvelous stream of activity which, at different
stages and under different aspects, we call sensation, per-
ception, conception, memory, apperception, thought,
imagination, pleasure and pain, choice and volition, begins
to flow. The child's first world, properly speaking, is
neither external nor internal; he does not discriminate
between his own body and the surrounding objects, and
much less between his mind and such objects; all things
are presented to him as one inseparable mass. Moreover,
the child's first world is a very small world, embracing
only the objects that lie within his ken. At the very first,
he has no "ken"; he is blind and deaf, and merely feels;
when he begins to see and to hear, he sees and hears things
in close connection with his eyes and ears; and it is but
slowly that he conceives the ideas of separateness, exter-
nality, depth, and distance. For his purpose the poet has
chosen his objects well; still, the mother's eyes, hair, and
breast, and the cradle-roof, as particular objects of knowl-
edge, mark a considerably advanced stage in the child's
mental life. I shall not seek to analyze the processes by
20 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
which the child's homogeneous world is gradually i esolved
into a heterogeneous one. My main purpose is to em-
phasize the fact that those material objects which are right
about the child are the things that first fasten themselves
upon his mind, and so are the first to be known. In the
first stages of knowledge the child is wholly at the mercy
of his environment, as much so as the whelp in the kennel
or the cub in the jungle. Furthermore, this environment
is for the most part predetermined; for the rest, it is con-
trolled by the nu^ se, the mother, and other members of the
family; at most, such selective power of objects as the
child's own mind can assert is purely instinctive and spon-
taneous. How important an element such natural selection
is, we have no means of knowing, but it is absolutely limited
by the environment. It is worth remarking, too, that the
influence of environment when the child-nature is soft
and easily colorable is great, far bej'ond our power to
measure it.
We will assume that the first objects to arrest a child's
attention, and to be separated from the surrounding mass
of objects, are his own hands. But they do not satisfy
him. He reaches out to other and remoter things.
Through every inlet and avenue sensations, which form
the raw material of knowledge, are poured into his mind
and are slowly elaborated into ideas. The child is an
inductive philosopher. He learns his first lessons bj^
observation, experiment, and reflection. Every circle
that he makes about the room in his nurse's arms, every
excursion beyond its walls, is an exploring expedition in
the dark continent that shuts him in. Biting on his rub-
ber, twisting the neck of his doll, beating the floor with
his heels and the table with a spoon, he la^-s the founda-
tion of his future scientific knowledge. Progressivel}', he
comes into contact with further objects; he conquers the
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 21
5'ard, street, and field on his way to the conquest of the
mountain, the sea, and the sky.
While we call the child's mental progress slow, it is
really rapid considering all the factors that enter into
the account. It would be immeasureably slower than
it is, did not our first ideas assist us in acquiring later
ones. As has been said, the child's "perceptions are not
heaped up like dead treasures, but almost as soon as ac-
quired they become living forces that assist in the assimi-
lation of new perceptions, thus strengthening the power
of apprehension. They are the contents of the soul, that
now permanently assert themselves in the act of percep-
tion. For wherever it is at all possible, the child refers
the new to the related older ideas. With the aid of
familiar perceptions, he appropriates that which is foreign
to him and conquers with the arms of apperception the
outer v/orld which assails his senses."^
2. The Acts of Men; The Objective Realities of Life. —
From the first the child is brought into contact with a
second order of facts. These are the deeds of men, which,
in due course of time, are discriminated from the move-
ments of things and the actions of animals. Their dis-
tinguishing character, which, however, the child does not
at first perceive, is that they express intelligence, feeling,
and will. Further, the child discovers that some things he
may do, and some things he may not do. This is not due
to natural barriers, but to human barriers. He does not
at first know the power of a will as a will, but onl}' as a
force; but progressively control, restraint, obedience,
authority, law, rule, and government are learned as mere
objective facts. They are but slowly separated from the
analogous physical facts, and are never fully separated
until the child has found the cause and the signification
of social facts in the third group of primary realities.
^ Dr. Lange: Apperception, p. 55.
22 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
3. Facts of the Mind; Spiritual Realities. — It is in
tlie nursery and the home also that the child first meets
the things of the spirit. Here it is that he learns those
fundamental ideas of government and social relation
that are afterwards developed in general societ}' and in
the state.
At some time the child begins faintly to discriminate
between the cradle-roof and the nurse who rocks it. The
time comes when he begins to see that his mother's breast,
hair, and eyes are not his mother. He makes no account
of definitions; he has no use for "matter" and "mind,"
"bod}'" and ".spirit;" but the elementary facts of rational
existence begin to orb themselves in his consciousness.
His own ideas and feelings interpret to him the ideas and
feelings of others. Other minds are measured by his own
mind. He ma}' beat his hobby-horse and his nurse
indifferentl}' when they displease him; but this act, which
originates in blind impulse and is strengthened by habit,
nevertheless hastens a fuller discrimination of the two
orders of being.
The child's higher education now begins in earnest.
He has felt the power of spiritual realities. As he learns
hardness by beating the floor with his heels; resistance,
by bumping his head against the wall or door; strength,
by breaking his toys; heat, b}- burning his hand; weight,
by dropping a hammer on his toe, and sharpness, by cut-
ting his finger with a knife: so he learns what intelligence,
feeling, and will, order, right, and wrong, aversion,
sympathy, and affection, are through contact with nurse,
parents, brothers, sisters, and playmates. He discerns
the spiritual elements that constitute authorit}^ and gov-
ernment, ap]:)roval and disapproval, rewards and punish-
ment, whicli before had been to him but objective facts.
And not onlv are these ideas formed, but the institutions
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 23
that express them are in time duly recognized — the family,
society, and the state.
The child finally becomes introspective and knows him-
self. On the basis of the natural consciousness, self-con-
sciousness is developed. His ideas and feelings are reali-
ties that stimulate his mind and create new realities. The
subjective becomes objective. Old thought becomes ma-
terial for new thought. It is ver\' true that the normal child
develops slowly along this line. He first marks off his body
ft-om other objects. Then he distinguishes between his
bod}'' and his mind, and learns the meaning of the word
"self." Few are the persons who ever had or, at least,
can recall such an experience as the one related by
Richter. " On a certain forenoon I stood, a very young
child, within the house-door, and was looking out toward
the wood pile, as, in an instant, the inner revelation, T am
I,' like lightning from heaven, flashed and stood brightly
before me; in that moment had I seen mj^self as I, for the
first time and forever." ' But this revelation, when it
comes, marks the next step in development, following the
discrimination between the things of the body and the
things of the spirit.
The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that "this is I:"
But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of ' 'I' ' and "me, ' '
And finds "I am not -what I see,''
And other than the things I touch.
So rounds he to a separate mind.
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.
^ Quoted by Dr. Porter : The Human Intellect, p. 101.
24 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
The birth of self-consciousness marks the entrance of
the child upon the third and last stage of primary educa-
tion, in the present sense of that term. Its ethical im-
portance is very great. Moral thoughtfulness now begins,
feeble of course at first. Man communes with his own
heart, and his spirit makes diligent search. He com-
munes with his own heart upon his bed, and is still- He
examines himself, whether he is in the faith.
The three groups of facts that have just been described
are the primordial sources of human cultivation. With
them the education of the race began. With them the
education of every member of the race begins. In both
the general sphere and the individual sphere, they ante-
date teachers and schools and education as those terms are
commonly understood. It can hardly be too much insisted
upon that, in direct attrition between the mind and nature,
human society, and the mind itself natural knowledge,
moral knowledge, and philosophical knowledge originate.
Man's cultivation can never begin with books and libra-
ries. Both history and per.sonal experience tell us that
there is an earlier culture; a culture derived from the
earth, the sky, and the sea, the family, the camp, and the
market-place, and from communion with the thoughts and
intents of the heart. There are secondary sources of
cultivation, which we .shall soon describe, but it is these
primitive culture-elements that make them possible.
Nicely to define the relations of the three groups of
primary factors, or to measure their comparative value, is
l)eside our present purpose. Three or four remarks will
suffice.
The three groups appear in life in the order in which
they have been presented. Still, they are all found
in the child-mind from an early age, and from the time
of their full appearance they run side by side through
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
25
his mental life. Their interaction is constant and powerful.
They can be no more separated than cognition, feeling,
and will can be separated in the stream of consciousness.
They are not of uniform prominence in all persons, or in
the same person in all periods of life. Some persons liv^e
in nature, some among men, some in their own minds.
Children again live in their senses, adults in reason, the
old in memory. The speculative man lives in thought,
the sensitive man in his feelings, the practical man in his
deeds. The three groups of factors have each their pecu-
liar educational value; they cannot be made to take one
another's place; and they are all essential to a well-ordered
education.
II. THK SECONDARY GROUP.
The educational factors that we have been considering
are powerfully reenforced by a secondary group. As men
originally acquired knowledge through attrition with the
primordial sources of cultivation, they began to communi-
cate back and forth, and so became teachers one of an-
other. In this way there grew up a common fund of
experience or culture that has played a prodigious part in
the education of the world. Tradition and authority
appeared early, and henceforth second-hand, or deriv-
ative, knowledge supplemented first-hand, or primitive
knowledge. These new agents may be divided into four
sub-groups.
1. Oral language. — This stands first in power, if not in
time. Speech is the most direct, the most complete, and the
most rapid mode of conve3dng thought and feeling. The
matter conveyed comes from one of two sources. One
source is the speaker's own personal experience, the other
the common fund or stock of experience that is called tra-
dition. In the narrow sense tradition embraces facts.
26 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
rules of conduct, sage councils, generalizations of experi-
ence, old wives' wisdom, and prudential maxims that have
been handed down b}^ word of mouth through successive
generations. Tradition in its large sense will come before
us further on; here it should be remarked that the total
effect of oral language upon men's minds and lives, they
are quite incapable of estimating. No doubt it is le.ss than
formerly, owing to the multiplication of artificial substi-
tutes for the memory, but in the first stage of life it has
suffered no diminution.
2. Arts and Inventions. — Here we inventory the visible
works through which man accomplishes his purposes
(excluding only symbols proper and writing). These
works range from the simple articles and utensils of com-
mon life to the steamship, the city, and the Simplon road.
These objects are things, but the}' are more, since they
express human thought and purpose.
3. Symbols. — Here we catalogue those works of art the
direct object of which is to express thought, sentiment, or
feeling: the decorative art of the savage, the illustrations
of scientific and literary books, the Sistine Madonna, and
the Parthenon frieze. Symbolism and the practical arts
are often found mixed. The idea of beauty allies itself
with usefulness.
4. Writing. — In this expression we include picture
writing, hieroglj'phics, and alphabets. It is a form of
symbolism, but a form so unique in character, and so vast
in its influence, tliat it well deserves to stand in a category
1)y itself
It is quite impossible to exaggerate the influence of
writing and printing on the communication of thought,
and ])articularly on education, "It is the greatest inven-
tion man has ever made," says Carlyle, "this of mark-
ing down the unseen thought that is in him by written
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
27
characters. It is a kind of second speech, ahiiost as
miraculous as the first. ' '* And again: ' 'Universities arose
while there were yet no books procurable; while a man,
for a single book, had to give an estate of land. That, in
those circumstances, when a man had some knowledge to
communicate, he should do it by gathering the learners
round him, face to face, was a necessity for him. If you
wanted to know what Abelard knew, j^ou must go and
listen to Abelard. Thousands, as many as thirty thou-
sand, went to hear Abelard and that metaphysical the-
ology of his Once invent printing, j'ou meta-
morphosed all universities, or superseded them. The
teacher needed not now to gather men personally round
him, that he might speak to them what he knew: print it
in a book, and all learners far and wide, for a trifle, had
it each at his own fireside, much more effectually to learn
it."^
Such in outline are the secondary sources of knowledge
and mental discipline. The analysis might be carried
further, but this one is comprehensive and will answer
our purpose. The group suggests some observations of
importance.
1. The first of these observations is that these last
sources of cultivation are plainly secondary and derivative.
They mean nothing and serve no useful purpose save
as they rest upon a previous cultivation. Properly
speaking they are all arts. What Professor J. S- Blackie
says of books is true of all of them. "They are not
creative powers in any sense; they are merely helps,
instruments, tools; and even as tools they are only
artificial tools, superadded to those with which the wi.se
* The Hero as Divinity.
^ The Heio as Man of Letters.
28 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
prevision of Nature has equipped us, like telescopes and
microscopes, whose assistance in many researches reveals
unimagined wonders, but the use of which should never
tempt us to undervalue or to neglect the exercise of our
own e3^es. "^ A book is nothing but a thing to a child
until he has accumulated a fund of first-hand mental
experience that will furnish the apperceiving centers nec-
essary to enable him to understand it, as well as mastered
the symbolism of the printed page. The "parchment
roll"' is not
the holy river,
From which one draught shall slake the thirst forever.
The quickening power of science only he
Can know, from whose own soul it gushes free.
2. It has been suggested that a book is a thing before
it is a book. This suggestion leads to the wider observa-
tion that arts of all kinds are at once tools for the doing
of some work, and things or objects of study in them-
selves. As tools, they are secondary sources of knowledge
and discipline; as things, they fall among the primordial
factors. In this .sense every art is also a fact of science.
And the more important the art is, the more interesting
as an object of knowledge. All the arts of communica-
tion are subjects to be studied. It may be said in general
that the higher the purpose the art subserves, and the
greater the amount of thought that it displays, the more
interesting and valuable it is as a subject of study. And
this is the reason why the things of the spirit, using that
term in this wide sense, rank so high as educational in-
struments. This is the core of Humanism. Still more,
it is only as an art or instrument is understood that it
becomes significant and in the highest degree useful.
^SelfCiiltiite, p. 1.
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 29
Thus, the primary and the secondary elements of teaching
mingle. Even the most mechanical of the mental opera-
tions are not wholly mechanical.
Still more stress should be laid upon the educational
value of spiritual realities. We observe objects and form
ideas of them. These ideas are merely pictures or images
of things, in the first instance. But this is not all; they
become themselves objects of study, furnishing the richest
thought-material.
3. Once more, thought is before expression, and is its
cause. But the connection between the two is the closest
that we can conceive. Shunning the intricacies of this
old problem, we should not fail to remark that, practically,
the mind and language are inseparable. They strengthen
or weaken one another. Neither one can be studied in a
fruitful way without the other. If we begin with thought,
we find ourselves attending to its vesture; if we begin with
language, we cannot dismiss its content. "Speech," says
Sir William Hamilton, "is the godmother of knowledge."
"A sign is necessary to give stability to our intellectual
progress — to establish each step in our advance as a new
starting point for our advance to another be^^ond. A
country may be overrun by an armed host, but it is only
conquered by the establishment of fortresses. Words are
the fortresses of thought Language is to
the mind precisely what the arch is to the tunnel. The
power of thinking and the power of excavation are not
dependent on the word in the one case, on the mason- work
in the other; but without these subsidiaries, neither pro-
cess could be carried on beyond its rudimentary commence-
ment."^ Still another great scholar has said: "The hu-
man mind has never grappled with any subject of thought
without a proper store of language, and without an ap-
^Logic, L,ecture VIII.
30
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
paratus appropriate to logical method."' The close.iess
of the relation that we are remarking is shown by the
fact that the same word often means content and expres-
sion, as logos, ' 'speech, ' ' and ' 'word' ' itself. The New Testa-
ment places great stress upon the Word, but the word is
the doctrine. These reflections show very clearly that
the priniar}- and secondary facts of mental growth are so
bound up together that they cannot in reality be separ-
ated.
4. The order in which the secondary factors appear
in history, is also the order in which they appear in
the life of the child surrounded by civilized society.
We must, however, be on our guard against two mistakes.
We may exaggerate the length of the intervals between
the several factors of the secondary group, and also their
time relations to the primitive group. We must not divide
life into sharply-cut periods. Something depends upon
aptitude, and something upon circumstances. Perhaps it
is misleading to .speak of intervals at all. All that is
meant is that, in a general way, the analysis presented
describes the historical order and the individual order in
which the sources of human cultivation declare themselves.
The important facts are these: In the normal child, all
these agencies appear early, and they continue to act upon
him side by side as long as he lives. They strengthen
one another; they interact in a manner that defies analysis
Often it is difficult or impossible for one to tell in his own
case, and still more in the ca.se of another, from what
source certain knowledge was derived. Persons differ,
owing to personal character and environment. The human
voice is sound before it is .speech. A \-olunie is first a
thing, then a book. Art does wonders in sub.stituting one
.sense for another, as in the case of Laura Bridgeman,
'Sir H. S. Maine: Ancient Lazv.
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 3I
who could follow music by the sensations it produced in
the bottom of her feet. Similarly, one man learns by
conversation, by reading a book, or by looking at a picture
what another gets by the direct use of his senses. Still,
there is a limit to this substitution in both cases. Every
sense and every educational agent has its own appropriate
function that no other sense or agent can fully discharge.
A man blind from birth may learn the whole color vocab-
ular}^ but he can have no conception of its meaning.
The appropriate sense must always furnish a starting-point
from which the mind may work through the other senses
in the direction of substitution. Similarly, language,
writing, and pictures can never take the place of a suitable
grounding in the primal realities of sense and of the
spirit. This fact must not be obscured. No human
being's cultivation ever began with words of wisdom.
The library is a sealed book save to him who alread}-
possesses the keys of knowledge. The command to keep
out of the fire is significant only to those persons who
have already learned bj^ experience what the fire is. In
this primal sense, therefore, the education of all men
starts at the same place and proceeds by the same steps.
5, The field where primary and secondary knowledge
overlap is a wide one; within that field each kind has its
own points of advantage and disadvantage. In general,
first-hand knowledge is the more real and practical. Seeing
is believing. All our terms of cognition, or nearly so, go
back to the senses. Another's report of a fact or event ma)-
be as valuable practically as my own personal examination,
or even more so, as in the case of expert knowledge, but
speculatively the report never affects me in the same way.
No man's description of Niagara or Mont Blanc equals the
use of my own eyes. Second-hand knowledge, on the other
hand, is commonly acquired far more rapidly and easily.
32 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
If knowledge of the glaciers of Alaska, or of Yellow-
stone Park, obtained from a book is less real and vivid than
knowledge obtained by a personal visitation, it costs far
less in time, money, and eflfort. It is impossible to imagine
how the kingdom of knowledge would shrink up if men
were thrown wholly back upon their own unaided facul-
ties. As it is, the accumulations of the race are open to
every man, limited only by his own power to receive and
assimilate. We are sometimes enjoined never to tell a
child anything that he can find out for himself. Taken
as a rhetorical mode of emphasizing discovery or first-
hand knowledge, the precept is well enough, but as a
rule to be strictly followed it is both absurd and impos-
sible. To leave the child to his own unaided efforts is
telling the farmer of the Western prairies to throw aside
his improved machinery and cultivate and har^'est his
crops with the rude implements used in Judea in the days
of Boaz. Moreover, no man was ever reared in this way,
or ever will be. Fortunately, the utter impracticability of
the maxim, taken in its literal sense, leaves little proba-
bility that it will be abused. The sound rule is. Do not
tell the child too many things. I wish to know the dis-
tance from Ann Arbor to Ypsilanti; why should I measure
it myself so long as I can learn the distance from another ?
I do not need to measure the road to Ypsilanti, but I do
need to measure enough distances to enable me to under-
stand the process and to understand, measurably at least,
the distance-units that are employed in making them.
What I need in general is a sufficient stock of first-
hand knowledge suitable to equip me with apperceiving
centers, then I am ready for second-hand knowledge.'
• "Learning teacheth more in one yeare than experience in
twL-iitic: And learning teacheth fafelie, ^vheu experience tnaketli
mo miferable than wife. lie hafardeth fore, that waxeth wife by
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 33
What has been said answers, in general, the question
whether the study of elementary science should begin
with a book or in a laboratory. The child must observe
and experiment; but it is not wise to set him adrift in
nature or in the laboratory. Much the same may be said
of the teaching of law, whether it shall begin with cases
or principles, be inductive or deductive-
6. The real point that is involved in the last paragraph
may be stated more broadly. In the intellectual sphere,
authority is the acceptance of facts, ideas, and judg-
ments at second hand, on the ground of another person's
real or supposed knowledge. The learner does not him-
self know the fact or idea in the primitive sense of that
term. Authority, therefore, is opposed to personal knowl-
edge or reason. There are two kinds, the first relating
to facts and the second to judgments or opinions. The
authority that rested so long, and so heavily, upon the
mind of Europe, and that w^as shattered by the rise of free
inquiry, while embracing both elements, placed the
experience. An vnhappie Mafter he is, that is made cunning by
maiiie thippe wrakes: A miferable merchant, that is neither riche
or wife, but after fom bankroutes. It is coftlie wifdom, that is
bought by experience. We know by experience it felfe, that it is
a meruelous paiue, to finde oute but a fhort waie, by long wander-
ing. And furelie, he that wold proue wife by experience, he maie
be wittie in deede, euen like a fwift runner, that runneth fast out of
his waie, and upon the night, he knoweth not whither. And
verilie they be feweft of number, that be happie or wife by vu-
learued experience. And looke well vpon the former life of thofe
fewe, whether your example be old or yonge, %vho without learn-
ing haue gathered, by long experience, a little \\-ifdom, and fom
happiness: and whan you do confider, what mifcheife they haue
committed, what dangers the)' haue efcaped (and 3-et xx. for one,
do perifhe in the adiienture) then think well with your felfe,
whether ye wold, that your owne fon, fhould cum to wifdom and
happiness, by the waie of foch experience or no." — Roger Ascham:
The Scholemaster.
34 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
emphasis upon opinion. It has often been contended that
authority does not confer knowledge. L,ocke, for ex-
ample, declared it to be "madness" to persuade ourselves
that we see by another man's eyes, while Carlyle said:
"Except thine own e3'e have got to see it, except
thine owrr soul have victoriously struggled to clear vision
and belief of it, what is the thing seen or the thing be-
lieved by another or by never so many others ? " * We
shall look more carefully into the matter in a moment ;
here the fact concerns us that both kinds of authority play
necessar)'' parts in human life. Opinion finds its sphere
in practical affairs. Children must be guided by their
seniors, and the uninstructed in general must depend for
guidance upon those who are instructed. But opinion is
commonly said to have been banished from science and
philosophy, and largely so from religion. Into this branch
of the inquiry we need not go; it suffices to state the
proper sphere of opinion. The authority that is con-
cerned with facts we call testimony, and its range is far
wider than the range of opinion. We constantly accept
facts at the hands of witnesses, taking pains onl}" to satisfy
ourselves as to their competency. This is essential to the
progress of knowledge, and in fact to its existence in any
comprehensive sense of the term. A material cause of
the great progress in knowledge made in recent years is
the wide range that has been assigned to testimony, ac-
companied by careful scrutiny into the character of wit-
nesses. It is, therefore, only in a relative sense that
authority has been discarded, or that it can ever be dis-
carded, in the field of .science.
Let us look a little mure closely into the relation of
authority to the knowing processes. In the narrowest
' See Quick: Educational Reformers, p. 222, 223.
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
35
sense, knowledge of things and events is purely a per •
sonal matter. The fact or idea that another person places
in my way, as a parent bird puts a worm in the mouth
of its young, or a boy drops a marble into his pocket, I
do not know. I know it onl}' when, through the facts
and ideas that I have acquired for myself, I assimi-
late it and make it a part of my mental store. And even
then it lacks something of the reality and vividness of
primitive knowledge. Still we may agree with Mr. Quick
in saj-ing that Miss Martineau knew the comet which she
did not see was in the sk}-. Not as much can be said of
thinking. Using familiar speech, A convinces B of the
truth of a proposition or of the value of a doctrine. In
what sense does he do so ? The operation is in no way
like the operation of piling up weights in one scale-pan
until the other kicks the beam. What A really does is
to place before B facts and ideas that tend to excite in his
mind a train of thought that will bring him to the de-
sired conclusion. The thought is B's, not A's. In the
real sense, therefore, every man who becomes convinced
of a truth convinces himself. All that A can do for B is
skillfully to select and to bring before him matter that
compels him to do the thinking. This is due to a certain
relation, spontaneous or artificial, that exists between
A's mind and B's mind and the matter. The ultimate
explanation of the process is found in what we famil-
iarly call the constitution of the human mind. Now
this element of thought or personal insight is wholl}-
wanting when opinion or judgment is taken solely upon
authority. The operation is mechanical on both sides.
The practical result may be the same when a person
is guided by authority that it is when he is guided by
reason, but the speculative result is very different.
Two men vote the same ticket at an election, one
36 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
ignorantly, the other intelligenth'; the one vote counts
for as much as the other; but there is no comparing the
mental relations of the two men to the transaction, nor
to life as a whole, provided the present act is a type of
their conduct.
But authority is intimately connected with tradition,
and I have promised to saj- something more about that
subject.
Facts and ideas at first hand are handed on from one
man to another ; opinion grows ; thought accumulates;
conjectures and explanations multiply; habits and usages
spring up and become established; doctrines take root;
laws and institutions are evolved ; material civilization
expands; an educational ideal is worked out — this, or
something like it, may be accepted as a general account
of tradition. As here used, tradition is coextensive with
civilization, comprehending every human achievement that
continues from generation to generation. The currently
accepted educational ideal is the type to which societ}', or
men as a whole, consciously and unconsciously, labor to
make their .successors conform. "The educational aim,
we shall find, is always practical* in the large sense of that
word," says Professor Laurie, "for, even in its highest
aspects, it has always to do with life in some form
or other, and indeed presumes a certain philosophy of
life." This aim or ideal is one of the most potent of
realities, ranking, perhaps, next to nature itself as an
educational agent. Through its causative energy, it
tends to produce the national character. The first of the
three stages through which Professor Laurie finds the
educational ideal passing in its historical evolution, is
' ' the unpremeditated education of national character and
institutions, and of instinctive ideas of personal and com-
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
37
munity life in contact with specific external conditions,
and moulding or being moulded by these/
Words can hardly exaggerate the formative power of
tradition, taking it in this large way, upon the character
and conduct of men. It dictates ways of living and habits
of thought. It prescribes creeds and platforms. It be-
comes a practical measure of truth and duty. It is the
cake of custom. It fixes the cycle of Cathay. In the
large sense of those terms, it is the glass of fashion and
the mould of form. But it tends to mechanism and
uniformity. It runs to dryness and deadness. Often it
becomes oppressive and tj^rannous in the extreme, stifling
originality and repressing fresh thought. Naturally,
therefore, tradition calls out from the prophets of new
ideas and causes their most vigorous protests. They de-
mand to be informed why we also should not ascend to
the head-springs of thought, feeling, and life. As Mr.
Emerson voices this demand:
Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers.
It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing
generations beheld God and nature face to face; we, through their
eyes. Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the
universe ? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of
insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us,
and not the history of theirs? Embosomed for a season in nature,
whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invite us
by the powers they supply, to action proportioned to nature,
why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the
living generation into masquerade out of its faded wardrobe?
The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the
fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us
demand our own works and laws and worship. 2
This is one side of the matter, and a very important
side. But the other side is at least equally important.
^ Pre-Christian Education. — Introduction.
2 Nuture. — Introduction.
38 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Without persistence, men could ne^'er get forward. To
keep strictly within our own field, tradition hands to us
the existing educational type, and the materials out of
which, for the most part, the type of the future will be
fabricated. Some tell us that we should resort to civiliza-
tion, and some to the nature of the mind, for our ideals;
but there is good reason to think that the two directions
are very much the same thing in substance, for certainly
we may suppose that the civilizations of the most advanced
nations are psychological. However that may be, man is
in the midst of tradition, as he is of nature; and he might as
well try to escape the influence of the one as of the other.
Still more, the materials of education must be largely
drawn from the same source. Here we find realities, as
well as in the natural world, and realities that are quite
as important. The cry, "Back to nature ! ' ' "Back to ex-
perience ! " important enough in its place, sometimes
takes on the color of the ridiculous. The human tradi-
tion contains elements that ha\-e been assorted, tested,
elaborated, and refined; first-facts and thoughts have
become second-facts and thoughts: and so on in endless
repetition. Why then should we always be going back
to the beginning, if .such a thing w-ere possible? The
demand that one shall do so — that he shall repeat in all
things the experience of the race — is like .saying to a man
who wants a dinner that he must not sit down at the table
that is already spread, or even go to the shops for pre-
pared materials of which a dinner may be made, but that
he must go to the forest for meat and to the field for
bread.
III. .SCHOOL .STUDIES.
The topics that we have been considering are of great
speculati^•e interest. But this interest is not the main
HUMAN CULTIVATION. 39
cause of their being discussed in this place. My main
object is practical, not scientific. I have been seeking a
point of view from which we may profitably consider the
selection of educational materials for the school. This is
the question of educational values in its most practical
sense, and it calls for thorough discussion at the present
time in the light of fundamental doctrines. After what
has been said, we shall not be long in coming to an
answer.
First, the logic of life, to a great extent, settles the
question. In its earl}- stages mental growth is purely
spontaneous; what the child shall first know is settled
beforehand as conclusively as what he shall first eat. The
secondary sources of cultivation cannot be made primary
sources. The realities of spirit cannot be put before the
realities of sense. Ratio and proportion are subject to
change, but the main facts that concern us are fixed and
immovable. And, considering the tendency of men to
ride hobbies, to chase ignesfahd, to cultivate fads, this is
a fortunate circumstance. Happily, the Creator has
placed some things be3'ond the reach of experiment!
Secondly, when the child comes to school he has already
acquired two precious possessions. One is a certain store
of facts, ideas, images, and thoughts, and a certain
emotional and moral development. This mental store has
originated in ways that have already been explained, and
that need not be recapitulated. The magnitude of the
store, and the ratio of the elements, depend in part upon
the child's bent of mind, but mainly upon his quickness
of apprehension, his environment, and the tutelage of his
associates. Asa rule, we may assume that his different
kinds of knowledge are fairly well balanced. The child's
second possession is a store of language that is measurably
adequate to express his present facts and ideas, and to
40 STUDIES IN p:ducation.
receive new ones. Here again we may assume that some-
thing Hke balance exists. Knowledge may be in excess
of expression, expression in excess of knowledge; primary
and secondary knowledge may not be well proportioned
in all cases; but, generally speaking, we may suppose that
the two facts measure each other. The teacher mu.st
take the child where .she finds him, and face the question:
What shall the course of instruction be ? We may sum
up the answer in the following terms: —
1. The child's mental development should continue
along all the lines on which he has been moving from the
da}' of his birth. While the .school marks a new step for-
ward in the child-life, it should not mark a violent
change.
2. This mental development .should embrace the two
main factors that have been set forth, knowledge and
expression. The time will come when language, as a
means of expression, may fall behind thought, but not
yet. Hence to enlarge the child's store of knowledge,
and his means of receiving and conveying knowledge, are
the two main duties of the primary teacher. Most fortu-
nately, good teaching on either .side will help on the other
one. The motto should not be, ' 'Words through things, ' '
or "Things through words," but "Words through things
and tilings through words." But the things taught
should embrace the realities of the mind as well as the
realities of nature. At this point it is easy to fall into
excesses. If the former fault consisted in placing undue
emphasis upon words and literature, the fact does not ex-
tenuate the fault of overlooking the worth of the human-
ities.
3. All the .sources of knowledge should be drawn upon
in due measure, primary and .secondary, and also the sub-
groups into which each of these is divided. It is important
HUMAN CULTIVATION.
41
to remember that secondarj^ knowledge ultimately depends
upon primitive knowledge, and that it tends to formalism
unless perpetuall}^ renewed. The primary pupil must be
kept close to the realities of nature, and the advanced
student often be led back to them.
Unfortunately, there are those who see great educa-
tional worth in the spores of plants, the roes of fishes,
and the exiivicB of insects who can find little worth in
Plato's "Republic," Aristotle's "Politics," Milton's,
poems, and Shakspere's plays.
4. As a rule the child will not bring with him to school
the arts of the school. They must, therefore, be taught
in the school. These are such as reading and writing,
arithmetical computation, and drawing. They are tools
with which the invention of man, not nature, furnishes us.
They are instruments for the acquirement and impartation
of knowledge. Reading and writing, in an eminent sense,
are the means by which we acquaint ourselves with the
best that has been known and said in the world, and so
with the record of the human spirit. It may be that
relativel}- the old school devoted too much time to teaching
these arts, to the neglect of teaching subject-matter.
Certain it is that little real knowledge can be taught
through reading in the first stage, owing to the technical
difficulties of the subject. But to teach the largest amount
of knowledge in the shortest time is not the proper ideal.
If that were the aim, we should not teach the language
arts at all. The school looks to the future; and even if
the child could acquire real knowledge more rapidly during
his first school years if he neglected the two great arts of
the school altogether, he finds himself richly repaid in the
end for his temporary abstinence through the use that he
makes of these incomparable instruments of education.
The New school will make a mistake not less serious than
42 STUDIES I\ EDUCATION.
the one that it charges upon the Old school, if it relegates
the language arts to a secondary place, leaving them, as
it were, to be picked up by the way.
Viewing its histor}^ externall}^, we see that education
has undergone numerous changes in respect to ideals,
subject-matter, and methods. We may limit ourselves to
the second of these three topics. The Greeks fed the
minds of their children on their own incomparable litera-
ture. The Romans, when they had grown out of their
pristine narrowness, .studied the Greek letters. The Real-
istic Humanists of the Renai.s.sance looked for thought-
material in the form and sub.stance of the ancient literatures.
The Verbal Humanists laid the .stress on the .style and
form of the .same writings. The Natural Realists pleaded
for nature. In our own times, some educators .stand for
science and some for the record of the spirit. These ques-
tions, while important, do not in my view touch the real
root of the matter. We must not blind our.selves to the
fact that there has been good education since the day that
men first began to .study and to teach. Perhaps good
teaching has been much more abundant than we are apt
to think. Too frequently our judgments rest on external
features. One teacher may in.struct orally, another use
text-books; one may find his materials in nature, another
in humanit}-; one may u.se science as his in.strument, an-
other mathematics or philosophy; but if they are all good
teachers, they will impart knowledge, energize mind, and
develop character. We need not take too .seriously the
flux of theory and practice. There is something in edu-
cation that transcends theory — something that survives
the flux of method — something that is permanent and
living. This something is the constant element in educa-
tion. It is the pupil's own free, intelligent, personal
HUMAN CULTIVATION,
43
effort to learn. If this be present, the absence of much
else may be excused; if this be absent, the presence of all
else only makes the failure the more conspicuous. What
we should strive for, is this constant element in the culti-
vation of the individual. The smooth phrases now cur-
rent, "normal development," "natural method," "nature
studies," "new education," and the like, must not make
us dead to its incalculable importance. Orpheus built his
Thebes by playing on his flute. Teachers will never build
theirs in a similar manner.
The greatest danger that threatens education to-day
arises from the narrow and imperfect views of many of
those who are engaged in educational work. How difi&-
cult it is for the specialist to keep his mind broad, free, and
sympathetic, experience has fully shown. Teachers also
are likely to be greatly influenced by their own scholastic
tastes and interests. The trouble is that the specialist or
the teacher is apt to take a part of the map of the mind,
or of knowledge, for the whole map. This state of things
is partly unavoidable. It has also its good side, for it
tends to the generation of enthusiasm. But the laying
out of courses of stud}^ and the supervision of schools
should fall into other hands. Only those are fit for this
responsible work who have caught a vision of the whole
world of mind and of knowledge, and who have some just
conception, not mereh' of parts, but also of the relations
of the parts that blend in the one grand unity. The
Greeks believed in balance or ratio. Proportion was a
great word with them. "Nothing in excess," were the
words of Solon. It is a lesson that many educators and
teachers much need to learn.
II.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE.'
=j]ROFESSOR REIN, of Jena, remarks in his
" Outlines of Pedagogics " that the "fiction
of a formal education must be given iip^. In
general," he says, " there is no such educa-
tion at all; there exist simply as many kinds
of formal education as there are essentially different
spheres of intellectual employment. ' ' Dr. Van Eiew,
Rein's translator and editor, explains "formal education,"
or ' ' formal culture, ' ' as signifying ' ' about the same as
the vague expression ' discipline of the mind. ' Its ex-
treme defendeis, " he continues, " claim that tHe^pui^uit
of classic studies renders the intellect capable in any
sphere whatever; i.e., it develops all the mental facul-
ties. It is true that the study of a language renders the
pursuit of other related branches easier; but it cannot be
conceded that it prepares the mind directly Tor^grasping
other totally irrelevant subjects." * ' *'
On the other hand, the Committee of Ten, in its
' ' Report on Secondary School Studies, ' ' assumes the cor-
rectness of the doctrine. The passages in which this
assumption is made are so well known that it will suffice to
quote a single one of them. " Every youth who entered
college" [on the plan suggested] " would have spent four
years in studying a few subjects thoroughly; and, on the
' A paper read to the National Council of Education, Asbury
Park, N. J., July, 1894.
' Translated by C. C. and Ida J. Van I, lew, p. 42.
44
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE. 45
theory that all the subjects are to be considered equivalent
in educational rank for the purposes of admission to college,
it would make no difiference which subjects he had chosen
from the programme — he would have had four years of
strong and effective mental training. ' ' ^ The Chairman of
the Committee, it may be observed, had previously de-
clared, speaking of the development of obser^^ation, that
"it does not matter what subject the child studies, so
that he study something thoroughly in an observational
method. If the method be right, it does not matter,
among the numerous subjects well fitted to develop this
important faculty, which he choose, or which be chosen
for him."^
The views expressed by the Committee of Ten have not
passed without protest. One member of the Committee,
President Baker, uttered his dissent at the time.^ Dr.
Schurman has since spoken of the Committee as falling
victims to that popular psychology which defines education
merely as the training of mental faculties, as though the
materials of instruction were a matter of indifference.
Education, he insists, is not merely a training of mental
powers; it is a process of nutrition ; mind grows bv what it
teeds on, and the mental organism, like the physical orgaii-
ism, must have suitable and appropriate nourishment. *
Dr. De Garmo has remarked that the sentence quoted
above implies that the formal discipline we have heretofore
ascribed to classics and mathematics may really be obtained
in the study of anything, and that consequently it makes
no difference what we study. This, he says, is seeking
to correct an erroneous theory by making it universal. *
* Government Printing Office, p. 53.
* The Fortini, December, 1892, p. 418.
3 See his Supplemental Report.
* School Review, February, 1894, p. 93.
^ Educational Review. March 1894, p. 278.
46 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
The words that have been quoted from the several
authorities reveal a wide divergence of view. It may be
true, as one of the critics of the Committee of Ten
observes, that no harm will follow from its theor}^ so long
as the rich programmes that it offers remain; still, the
question is absolutely fundamental to the science of educa-
tional values and cannot be waved aside. If one subject
is as good as another for the purposes of discipline, then
the maxim ' ' all is in all ' ' must be taken in a sense that
would have startled even Jacotot. Certainly such a theory,
supported by the weight of authority that is behind it,
may well claim the attention of an>' society or association
of men whose 7'aison d'etre is the discussion of educa-
tional problems.
In the outset I may state the theory a little more
definitely. Dr. De Garmo says it consists in "the idea
that the mind can store up mechanical force in a few sub-
jects, like grammar and mathematics, which can be used
with efficiency in any department of life." That is, the
process that formal discipline assumes may be likened to
the passage of energy from the fires of the sun, first to
vegetation, and then to the coal beds and subterranean
reservoirs of oil and gas, whence it is again drawn forth to
cook a breakfast, to warm a drawing-room, to light a city,
or to propel a steamship across the oceanJ This is the
theory that we are to examine.
First, we 7nay look into the analogous facts in the physi-
ological sphere. — The result of physical activity — call it
what we will — presents to our view two phases, one
special and one general. The force engendered by any
defined exertion of physical power is fully available for
all like kinds of exercise, but only partially so for un-
like kinds. Thus, the power or skill engendered by
-"' -^''* -C '* vj: A^ i_t __ t^> ^ ■^_ ,.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE. 47
driving nails can all be used in driving nails, but only
partially in shoving a plane. In the intellectual sphere,
the two corresponding facts are sometimes called train-
ing and discipline. Furthermore, the generic element
may be still further analj'zed. Activity tends, first, to
invigorate the whole body — " to tone it up," as we say —
and, secondl}-, to overflow into new channels l3'ing near
to the one in which it was created. For example, driv-
ing nails will energize the whole body to a degree, but
the hand, the arm, and the shoulder to a much greater
degree; and so it will prepare for shoving a plane or
turning an auger far more than for kicking a ball 01
vaulting over a bar. The law appears to be this: in so far
as the second exertion involves the same muscles and nerves
as the first one, and, particularly, in so far as it calls for
the same coordination of muscles and nerves, the power
created by the first exertion will be available. In other
words, the result is determined by the congruity or the
incongruity' of the two efforts.
Now, the contribution that any defined exertion makes
to the general store of one's bodily energy is important.
At the same time, the facts do not prove that a reservoir
of power can be accumulated by any one kind of effort
that can be used indifferently for any and all purposes.
There is no such thing- ^^ a formal physical discipline.
Energy created by activit}" flowing in one channel cannot
be turned at will into any other channel. A boxer is not
perforce a fencer. A pugilist in training does not train
promiscuously, but according to certain strict methods
that experience has approved. Mr. Galton has undertaken
to show that the genius of the famous wrestlers of the
North Country is hereditary; but he has not undertaken
to show that these wrestlers are also famous oarsmen/
^ Hereditary Genius, Chap, xviii.
48 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Secondly, we may touch for a vioment on the relations
of body and mmd. — That such a relation exists — that
psychic life has a physical basis; that the saints all have
bodies — is admitted; but the nicer connections of body
and soul have never been reduced to formulae. The
prudent Locke's maxim, Mens sana in sano corpore, is
universally admired; it expresses, no doubt, a truth more
or less general, and is a beautiful educational ideal. Still,
we cannot deny soundness to many minds that have
dwelt in unsound bodies, or claim mental soundness for all
men having sound bodies. Many of the saints have lived
in poor bodies, while many persons with good bodies have
been far from being saints. Not even the wildest mate-
rialist, although he should hold that the brain secretes
thought as the liver secretes bile, would pretend that
physical activity and strength and ps}-chic activity and
strength can be put in an equation.
Thirdly, dismissing these analogous facts, we come
directly to the mind itself. — We shall examine into the
mutual convertibility of the different kinds of mental
activity or power.
There is a constant relation between the three phases
of mental action. Cognition, feeling, and will are not
names of different states of consciousnesss, but names of
different a.spects of the same consciousness. They can-
not be separated except in thought. The three elements
mingle in the full stream of mental activity from the mo-
ment that the stream begins to flow. The annihilation
of one is the annihilation of all.
Within certain limits, these elements seem to vary to-
gether; outside of those limits, they tend to inverse varia-
tion. Mr. Darwin has told us with charming frankness,
and in words bordering on pathos, that his own exclusive
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE, 49
absorption in scientific study had destro.ved the feelings
of wonder, admiration, and devotion which he at the root
of rehgious experience, and also robbed him of the pleas-
ures which he had once received from poetry and art. I^ate
in life he wrote that the most sublime scenes had become
powerless to cause the conviction and feeling to arise in
his mind that there is more in a human being than the
mere breath of his body, which had filled and elevated
it when, a young man, he stood in the grandeur of a Bra-
zilian forest.^ He speaks of his mind as having become
" a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large
collections of facts," and says he cannot conceive "why
this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the
brain alone on which the higher tastes depend. ' ' ^ Shaks-
pere perfectly understood, what modern psychology ex-
plains, that the native hue of resolution becomes "sicklied
o'er with the pale cast of thought," and that enterprises of
great pith and moment are thereby turned awrj^ and lose
the name of action. Hamlet had thought too much to
kill the king; and many a man of the closet — many a
speculative thinker — has undergone a like disintegration
of practical character, although he may have had no pur-
pose to commit a similar deed. It is therefore perfectly
obvious that there is no such thing as formal mental dis-
cipline, in the broadest sense of the language.
Narrowing the field again, we come to the intellect. Now
our question is the mutual convertibility of the different
forms of intellectual activity, and we must proceed more
slowly.
1. These forms are much more closely connected than
the old psychologists thought. They indeed taught that
1 Life and Letters, Vol. I p. 281.
2 Ibid., Vol. I, p. 81.
50 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
representative knowledge is conditioned upon presenta-
tive, and that thought is conditioned upon both presenta-
tion and representation; but they did not teach how deepl\'
the processes summed up in the word "thought" enter
into perception. There is perhaps no form of cogniti\-e
activity that is pure and simple. These propositions do
not need to be argued. At the same time, the cognitive
elements do not var}' together. Perception, memor}-, and
imagination are not convertible terms; neither is any one
of these faculties, in a concrete case, the measure of any
other. We find the strangest combinations of intellect-
ual power in real life. The savage is as weak in speculative
reflection as he is strong in keenness of scent. The Realists
have deservedly emphasized the value of sense-perception
and of sense-teaching in education; but they have not
emphasized the facts that the particular and the concrete
mark an earh- and imperfect stage of mental advancement,
that there is no greater clog upon mental progress than
the habit of thinking it, and that a man's thinking capa-
city is gauged by his power to think general and abstract
thoughts. Children and savages — all immature minds —
live in their senses; cultivated men grow out of them.
That is a significant anecdote which Dr. Fitch relates of
the teacher who was testifying before Lord Taunton's
Conunission as to the extraordinary interest which his
pupils took in physical science. Asked what department
of science most interested his scholars, he replied: "The
chemistry of the explosive .sub.stances. " '
2. "Habits of observation" and "men of observation"
are phrases often heard. We may well incjuire how far
such language is true.
It is well known that some persons keenl\- notice faces,
.some actions, .some attire, .some manners, some language;
' Lectures on Teaching, Chapt. XIV.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE. 5I
also that some persons are closely observant of several
classes of phenomena. There is, however, no formal power
of observation. The Indian's boa.sted faculty is limited to
his native environment; introduced into Cheapside or the
Strand, he sees nothing compared with Sam Weller or
one of Fagin's pupils. Nor can any exercises bf p^p-
scribedthat will cultivate nn all-nronnrl ob'^prv-ation. The
inductive logicians lay down rules for conducting observa-
tions and experiments; as, That the)' must be precise,
That the phenomena must be isolated, etc. ; and very good
rules they are. But they do not constitiite a proper
organon of observation. The words of Dr. Sully remain
true, that there are no rules of good observation which
would enable one to teach it as an art. More will depend ,_
he says, upon daily companionship with an acute observer
than upon S3^stematic training. '^ Still, in such case the
senses of the pupil will generally take the direction of the
senses of the acute observer.
3. Next come the faculties of repre.^etitation. Unusual
powers of memory are so far from implying unusual under-
standing that, according to a prevalent opinion, the t\^•o
are irreconcilable. Some writers have thought it neces-
sary to refute that view. We need not canvass the ques-
tion here further than to remark that good understanding
is more frequently accompanied by good memory than good
memory by good understanding. Still further, memor}'
exercises are quite as limited in their effects as observation
exercises. One person has a m.emory for names, a second
for places, a third for faces, a fourth for dates and statis-
tics, a fifth for ideas, a sixth for language, etc.; some
combine two or more of these gifts; but there is no
memory that takes up everything indifferently.
What has been said of the memory is equalh' true of
1 Outlines of Psychology, p. 214.
52 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
the oth6r great representative faculty. There is the
imagination of the philosopher, of the artist, and of the
man of affairs, with their several subdivisions.
4. Finally, we come to the logical facult}', which is
supposed to be the very seat and shrine of formal disci-
pline. Here the facts are not different from those already
presented. Ability in formal logic is not the same thing
as ability in real logic, as the Schoolmen made ver>'
plain. Deduction is not induction. Mastery of the
method of difference, sometimes called the chemical
method, does not equip one for investigating the affairs
of human society. On the other hand, it is often said,
and with perfect truth, that constant use of the more
rigorous methods of science tends to unfit men for deal-
ing with human questions. No curious observer can fail
to notice how practical ability to judge and to reason tends
to run in special channels. The tendency is most striking
in specialization. Eminence in microscopy, in sanitary
science, in engineering, in philology, in pedagog}', in a
thousand specialized pursuits, is no guarantee of abilit}'
in other matters, or even of good sense in the common
affairs of life. The only astrologist whom I have ever
happened to know personally was an eminent civil engineer.
Every person who has attempted to make up a course
of popular lectures by drawing upon the professional
talent of the vicinage, knows how hard it is to draw the
professional man out of his Fach. Often the lawyer's
unwillingness to appear in such a capacity is due to his
consciousness of his own limitations. Again, the notion
that the lawyer is especially fitted for the work of legisla-
tion by his technical knowledge of the law, is a common
fallacy. His mind is trained in the law as it is; and he
naturally shrinks from changes that will necessitate new
adjustments of his ideas and modifications of his practice.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE.
53
After remarking that it is hard for the modern reader to
comprehend how men who reasoned upon their data with
the force and subtlety of the Schoolmen could ever have
accepted such data, Lord Macaulay proceeds as follows:
It is the same with some eminent lawyers. Their legal argu-
ments are intellectual prodigies, abounding with the happiest
analogies and most refined distinctions. The principles of their
arbitrary science being once admitted, the statute-book and the
reports being once assumed as the foundations of reasoning, these
men must be allowed to be perfect masters of logic. But if a
question arises as to the postulates on which their whole system
rests, if they are called upon to vindicate the fundamental maxims
of that system which they have passed their lives in studying,
these very men often talk the language of savages or of children.
Those who have listened to a man of this class in his own court,
and who have witnessed the skill with which he analyzes and
digests a vast mass of evidence, or reconciles a crowd of prece
dents which at first sight seem contradictory, scarcely know him
again when, a few hours later, they hear him speaking on the
other side of Westminster Hall in his capacity of legislator. They
can scarcely believe that the paltry quirks which are faintly heard
through a storm of coughing, and which do not impose on the
plainest country gentleman, can proceed from the same sharp and
vigorous intellect which bad excited their admiration under the
same roof and on the same day. ^
It is well known that Lord Erskine, the peerless advo-
cate at the bar, proved a disappointment in the House of
Commons.
Thus, we see that, no matter what mental activ-
ities we consider, they conform to the causes that excite
them. Like the dyer's hand, the mental faculties are
subdued to what they work in. There is no such thing
as activity in vacuo. An incisive writer has said:
The circumstantial evidence with which lawyers, qua lawyers,
are familiar under our system of jurisprudence, is an artificial
thing created by legislation or custom, with the object of prevent-
1 BoswelVs Life of Johnson.
54 STUDIES I\ EDUCATION.
ing the minds of the jury — presumably a body of untrained and
unlearned men — from being confused or led astray. Moreover,
they are oulj' familiar with its use in one very narrow field —
human conduct under one set of social conditions. For example,
a lawyer might be a very good judge of circumstantial evidence
in America, and a very poor one in India or China; might have a
keen eye for the probable or improbable in a New England vil-
lage, and none at all in a Prussian barrack. . . . A wild
Indian will, owing to prolonged observation and great acuteness
of the senses, tell by a simple inspection of grass or leaf-covered
ground, on which a scholar will perceive nothing unusual what-
ever, that a man has recently passed over it. He will tell whether
he was walking or running, whether he carried a burden, whether
he was young or old, and how long ago and at what hour of the
day he went by. He reaches all his conclusions by circumstantial
evidence of precisely the same character as that used by the geol-
ogist, though he knows nothing about formal logic or the process
of induction. Now, what Dr. would have us believe is,
that he can come out of his study and pass judgment on the
Indian's reasoning without being able to see one of the "known
facts" on Avhich the reasoning rests, or appreciate in the slightest
degree which of them is material to the conclusion and which is
not, or even to conjecture whether taken together they exclude
the hypothesis that it was not a man but a cow or a dog which
passed over the ground, and not to-day but yesterday that the
marks were made, i
Perhaps it will be objected to the line of argument fol-
lowed that it assumes the truth of an obsolete psychology.
The change of front of psychologists at this point, HofF-
ding thus suggests:
As classification, in the provinces of zoology and botany, led to
the notion of eternal and unchangeable species — so that it now
costs a hard struggle to furnish proof that these species are the
fruits of a natural course of evolution — so psychological research
for a long time thought its end had been attained when it reduced
the various inner phenomena to various "faculties'" of the mind — a
procedure which conflicted strangely with the strictly spiritualistic
conception of the unity of the mind. At the same time, these
• The Nation, November Ki, ISTO, pp. 2%-297.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE.
55
'•faculties" were regarded as causes of the phenomena concerned,
and thus the need of a causal explanation was satisfied in a very
convenient, though quite illusory, manner. In particular it was
overlooked that in classification attention is given only to a prom-
inent characteristic; that it is not therefore actual concrete .yAr^^t'^
themselves which are classified, but the elements out of which a
closer examination shows them to be formed. There is scarcely a
single conscious state — as will be shown later in detail — which is
only idea, only feeling, or only will. "
I am not about to attempt the rehabilitation of the
much derided ' 'facult}'" psychology. It cannot be denied,
however, that, with all its defects, this psychology did
furnish a convenient mode of describing mental phenom-
ena. But, no matter what ps^xhology we adopt, the
phenomena of the individual mind cannot be explained,
so far as appears, on the theory' of the correlation of
forces.
Next in order come some remarks and applications of
the principles stated.
1. What has been said of physical activities may be
repeated of p^vrhip artivHtip.'^. They present to our
minds a specific and a generic phase. Any defined intel-
lectual exertion, besides generating power that is subject
to draft for like efforts, also tends to energize the intellect
aiid^ to a degree, thp whole mind. This overflow of
power — this mobilization of the mind, if we may so call it
— is an important factor in psychic life. It furnishes tlie_
dogma of formal discipline its only support. How strong
this support is, we cannot say in quantitative terms; but
certainl}' it is far from sufficient to uphold the dogma as
commonly understood.
2. The last remark suggests the harmonizable quality
* Outlines of Psychology. Translated by Mary E. Lowndes.
p. 19.
56 STUniES IN EDUCATION.
— the congruity or incongruity — of mental activities. This
subject belongs to the psychologist; but a related one,
which has even more practical importance, belongs to the
pedagogist. Reference is now made to congruity as a
principle to be emploj'ed in the classification of studies.
The first question is: What studies are congruous and
what incongruous ? And the second one: How far should
the principle of congruity be followed in the choice of
studies and in their arrangement? The two subjects of
congruous mental activity and of congruous studies call
for a fuller investigation than they have ever received.
3. Even this cursory survey would be inadequate with-
out mention being made of two topics that receive large
attention at the hands of teachers and educational writers.
Certain arts were long ago called liberal i^artes liberales)
because they were supposed to liberalize the mind; that
is, set it free from its ignorance, narrowness, and preju-
dice. This claim was well founded. In time, however,
a liberal education came to be understood as a general
education, in contradistinction to one that is special. The
phrase now conveyed the idea of extent rather thnn gnn.l-
ity of study, and such appears to be its present accepta-
tTorr But Tt is almost needless to remark that liberal
study, and particularly as pursued in colleges and univer-
sities, is possible only in a relative sense. There must be
a definite limitation of the field if we are to secure thor-
oughness and efficiency. Men cannot now take all
knowledge for their province. But this is not all. Good
specialization must also attain a certain breadth. A Greek
scholar must study Latin; an English scholar, German; a
physicist, mathematics; a pedagogist, psychology, logic,
and ethics. Over-specialization, like too wide general
study, defeats itself. The adjusting of the two factors,
extension and intention, is a problem as difficult as it is
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE.
57
important. At one stage they vary directly; at another
stage, inversely. Liberal culture is but a broader special-
ization; specialization, but a narrower liberal culture.
4. The only practical reason for discussing formal dis-
cipline in this place is that it involves studies and courses
of study. The first question relative to the educational
value of any subject is: What kind of mental activity
does it stimulate ? This question reaches much further
than is commonly supposed. If the subject is said to
develop the faculties of observation, then we must ask:
Observation in what direction ? In the direction of nature,
or of man? And, if the answer is nature, then the ques-
tion is: What department of nature ? The same analysis
must be made in respect to memory, imagination, com-
parison, judgment, and thought. But this is not all.
Because a subject develops the kind of activity that is
desired, we are not therefore at once to assign it a place
in the curriculum. The quantitative question is hardly less
important, viz.: How much activity does the subject
stimulate? Even the most worthless subjects have some
educational value; and we cannot assign any subject its
place until we have compared it with others in respect to
the measure of the effect that it produces.
5. Applying these criteria to leading studies, we have
no difficulty in seeing that their ardent cultivators often
claim too much for them. The partisans of scientific edu-
cation claim that the sciences stimulate strongly all the
intellectual faculties. We must admit the claim. This,
however, does not cut us off from asking what channels
the observation and comparison, analysis and thinking, run
in. Mr. Todhunter repels the claim that the natural
sciences ' ' are eminently and specially salutary as a means
of developing the powers of observation." He argues
that ' ' the study of an}- subject tends to make men observ-
58 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ant of the special matter of that subject; the study of
botany doubtless trains the habit of observing botanical
phenomena; the stud}- of chemistry doubtless trains the
habit of observing chemical phenomena. But I have never
noticed," he says, "that the devotion to any specific branch
of natural history or natural philosoph}^ has anj^ potent
influence in rendering the student specially alive
to phenomena unconnected with the specific pursuit.
I could give some striking examples to the con-
trary."^ Unfortunately, Mr. Todhunter did not gen-
eralize the principle that underlies his very just re-
marks. It is the principle of .specific and generic prod-
ucts of mental activity. It is the principle to which Rein
goes counter when he says in words that are somewhat
over-strong: ' ' There exi,st simply as man}' kinds of formal
education as there are essentially different spheres of in-
tellectual employment." But, still more unfortunately,
Mr. Todhunter prefers claims for mathematics that are
quite as absurd as those that he repels in the ca.se of
natural science. In their own field the mathematical
sciences are invaluable, both as disciplines and as tools;
but no field is more closely limited or more definitely
marked off.
All in all, language is the greatest educational agent
that we possess. First, it is the content or substance of
thought. It holds much of the accumulated cultivation of
our race. Secondly, we master it as a tool for the ex-
pression of our own thought, and this is inferior to no
other di.scipline that we are capable of receiving. Thirdly,
when we become scholars we stud)' language as the form
of thought, or as grammar; and here we deal with some
of the broadest and most abstract relations that ever re-
ceive our attention. Language appeals to us also under
' The Conflict of Studies, p. 23.
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE.
59
its historical aspect, under its comparative aspect, and,
finally, as one of the noblest, if not indeed the noblest, of
all the arts. But great as is its educational value, you
cannot adequately educate a child merely by teaching him
language.
This is an outline merely of the subject of this paper.
I shall now sum up the principal ideas that have been
advanced in the course of the argument.
The power generated by any kind of mental activity must
be studied under two aspects, one special and one general.
The degree to vv'hich such power is general depends upon
the extent to which it energizes the mind, and particu-
larly the extent to which it overflows into congruent
channels.
Such power is far more special than general; it is only
in a limited sense that we can be said to have a store of
mobilized mental power. In a sense, men have percep-
tions, memories, and imaginations rather than perception,
memory, and imagination.
While liberal study and specialization look to somewhat
different ends, they are, in fact, only parts, and necessary
parts, of the same thing.
No one kind of mental exercise — no few kinds — can de-
velop the whole mind. That end can be gained onl\-
through many and varied activities.
No study -no single group of studies— contains within
itself the possibilities of a whole education. That balance
of development which we should call a liberal education
can be gained only through a measurably expanded cur-
riculum.
A few words in relation to the genesis and permanency
of the doctrine of formal discipline will fitly close the
6o STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
paper. That doctrine is a survival from the days of
Scholasticism. Those days were the halcyon period of
formal studies. Formalism, which rests upon the machine
tendency of the human mind, then gained a hold which four
centuries of real studies have not sufficed to throw off. In
truth, the downfall of Scholasticism was due primaril}- to an
agent that, in one way, perpetuated its power. Humanism
brought such intense relief to the minds of men, long
starved upon merely logical elements, that it became the
badge of a new servitude. The Greek and I,atin liter-
atures took possession of cultivated minds. The clas.sical
tradition was established, and it soon became the most
powerful educational tradition that the world has ever
seen. As the classical cultures were not vernacular cul-
tures, the schools were necessaril)^ made engines for
teaching foreign languages. Admire as we justly may
the classical chapter in the history of human cultivation,
we cannot deny that there grew up a classical formalism
which was only less tyrannous than the old scholastic
formalism had been. When the new regime came to be
challenged, its devotees cast about them for means of de-
fense. Unconsciously borrowing from the scholastics the
formal idea, they poured into it the notion that the classics
have an exclusive, or an almost exclusive, educational
value; because, as alleged, they alone furnish that liberal
or general culture which, relatively speaking, must form
the basis of complete education. Knowledge, content,
substance, mental nutriment, were relegated to a sec-
ondary place. It became the business of teachers to ' 'dis-
cipline" minds; which, indeed, is true enough if the
matter is rightly understood. This tendency went so fai-
that knowledge, thought, ideas, had little to do with
fixing a man's place in the intellectual world. The
supreme question was whether he had read certain books,
THE DOGMA OF FORMAL DISCIPLINE. 6l
and not whether he was a man of real cultivation. This
exaggerated claim has at last been cast off. Greek and
L,atin have been relegated to their own proper place as
educational powers; but, most unfortunately, the con-
ception of formal discipline, which was the joint product
of the scholastic and the humanistic minds, still remains
somewhat to vex our peace.
III.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE
AND ENERGY APPLIED TO SOME
PEDAGOGICAL PROBLEMS/
HK nouns "congruence" and " congruity,"
and the adjectives "congruent" and "con-
gruous," are derived from the Latin verb
co7igrucre, which means to come together with
something, and so to agree. The nouns mean suitableness,
appropriateness, consistency, agreement, coincidence, cor-
respondence, fitness, harmony, and the adjectives mean
pertaining to or having this quaht}'. Th;j words have
respect to relations, and they are favorites with those
philosophers who place virtue in the fitness of things.
For men to render obedience to God, or for a son to honor
Ills father, is said to be congruous to tlie light of rea.son.
' ' Incongruence ' ' and ' ' incongruous ' ' are the negatives
of these words. Congruence may be affirmed of physical
things alone, of psychic things alone, or of phj'sical
and psychic things taken together. The element of time
is involved. Congruence is simultaneous or successive.
If successive activities are congruous, the first flows
naturally into the second and they l)lend; the first leaves
the body or the mind, a-s the case may be, in a suitable
frame to enter upon the second. Particular attention may
'The Report of the comniitleeon Pedagogics, submitted to the
National Council of Education at Denver, Col., July, 1895. The
report has been sonieuhat expanded in preparing it for this vol-
ume. It will be seen that, in some degree, this paper and the pre-
ceding one overlap.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENXE. 63
be directed to this point, because the argument of this
paper will turn in large part upon the relations of succes-
sive psychic states.
First, 7ce may glance at bodily activities as congruous or
incongruons. — It is obvious that congruence must be af-
firmed of some physical activities, incongruence of others.
No reference is here m^de to organic functions. Walking
is a good preparation for leaping, wielding a hammer for
shoving a plane. But violent exercise disqualifies the
muscles or nerves for any activity that requires careful
handling or delicate touch. The surgeon could not qualif)'
himself for a difficult operation by first engaging in the vig-
orous exercises of the gymnasium, nor the painter fit him-
self for putting the last touches to a fine picture by crushing
stones with a sledge. No more does the skillful teacher
place the writing or the drawing lesson just after the school
recess. We need not dwell upon the laws that underlie
these facts further than to sa)', that congruent exercises
appear to involve, in whole or in part, similar coordinations
of the muscles and nerves and similar physical tones.
Secondly, 7C'e may speak of bodily and psychic states
as congruous or incongruous. — That certain correlations
exist between the body and the mind is too plain to
be disputed; also certain oppositions or antagonisms.
Mental power and tone depend upon physical power and
tone, while states of mind influence states of body. Re-
pose of body conduces to reflection, meditation, or musing.
Strong physical exercise tends to exclude vigorous men-
tal exercise. Still there are obvious limits to these effects.
The Greeks laid stress upon maintaining balance or pro-
portion between the body and the soul, but their great
athletes and their great writers or orators were diff'erent
64 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
classes of persons. Aristotle has left two striking testi-
monies relative to this subject: "The evil of excessive
training in early years is strikingly proved by the exam-
ple of the Olympic victors; for not more than two or three
of them have gained a prize both as boys and as men;
their early training and severe gymnastic exercises
exhausted their constitutions. " " Men ought not to labor
at the same time with their minds and with their bodies;
for the two kinds of labor are opposed to one another, the
labor of the body impedes the mind, and the labor of the
mind the body. ' ' ^ This is largely true, and the truth has
important pedagogical applications, as to the question
whether students as a class can carry on successfully the
work of the classroom or the laboratory and of the shop
or field at the same time.
Thirdly, the primary psychic elements as congrzwiis or
htcongruous. — Cognition, feeling, and will are present in
every fully developed state of consciousness. Dr. Dewey
calls them ' ' the three aspects which every consciousness
presents, according to the light in which it is considered;
whether as giving information, as affecting the self in a
painful or pleasurable wa}^ or as manifesting an activity
of self. But there is still another connection. Just as in
the organic body the process of digestion cannot go on
without that of circulation, and both require respiration
and ner\^e action, which in turn are dependent upon the
other processes, so in the organic mind. Knowledge is
not possible without feeling and will; and neither of these
without the other two. ' ' " This is ver}^ well as far as it
goes, but it does not tell us whether the three elements are
all present in the first or simplest state of consciousness.
» 77?.? Politics, VIII : 4; translated by Jowett.
' Psychology, pp. 17-18.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 65
The further relations of the three elements are of the
greatest interest, and must be considered more carefully.
Two facts are easily observable. One is that up to a cer-
tain point the three elements vary directly; the other is
that beyond this point they vary inversely. Until the
mental current reaches a given height, cognition, feeling,
and will swell together; that point reached, any one of
the three must swell at the cost of one or both the others.
Hoffding, who does not, however, generalize them into a
single law, presents these interesting facts: —
Self-observation reveals at most only an approximation to a
state in which all cognitive elements have vanished. Such an
approximation is reached, the more the strength of the feeling-ele-
ment increases. Cognition and feeling must thus stand in inverse
relation to one another; the more strongly the one is manifested,
the less the strength at the command of the other. An over-
whelming joy or sorrow may drive out all ideation, all recollec-
tion; but an ecstatic condition of this kind stands on the margin
of consciousness. . . .
It is only in the course of psychological development that dif-
ferentiation between feeling and will makes its appearance.
There comes to be an even greater contrast between the two ways
in which inner movement finds a vent. The psychological impor-
tance of the law of persistence of energy is here seen plainly, for
the more energy an individual expendson the one kind of reaction,
the less can be expended on the other. This truth is strikingly
illustrated in Saxo's well-known tale of the diflferent effect which
the news of the murder of Regner Lodbrog produced on his sons:
he in whom the emotion was weakest has the greatest energy for
action. '
This subject is one to which Dr. Sully does the fullest
justice. Dealing with the opposition between knowing,
feeling, and wiUing, he says:
These three kinds of mental state are, as we have seen, in gen-
eral clearly marked off from one another. A child in a state of
» Outlines of Psychology. Translated by Mary E. Lowndes,
pp. 98-99.
66 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
strong emotional excitement contrasts with a child calmly think-
ing about something, or another child exerting his active powers
in doing something. If we take any one of these aspects of mind
in a well-marked form, we see that it is opposed to the other
aspects. Thus strong feeling is opposed to and precludes at the
time calm thinking (recollecting, reasoning), as well as regulated
action (will). Similarly, the intellectual state of remembering or
reasoning is opposed to feeling and to doing. The mind cannot
exhibit each kind of phenomenon in a marked degree at the same
time.
This opposition may be seen in another way. If we compare
not different states of the same mind, but different minds as a
whole, we often find now one kind of one mental state or opera-
tion, now another in the ascendant. Minds marked by much feel-
ing (sensitive, emotional natures) commoul}- manifest less of the
intellectual and volitional aspects or properties. Similarly, minds
of a high degree of intellectual capability (inquiring or inquisitive
minds), or of much active endowment (active minds), are as a
nile relatively weak in the other kinds of endowment. »
Again, after observing that the relation of the emotional
to the intellectual side of mental growth is at once a rela-
tion of mutual opposition and of reciprocal aid, Dr. Sully
goes on to say:
In the first place, feeling and knowing are in a manner op-
posed. The mind cannot at the same moment be in a state of
intense emotional excitement and of close intellectual application.
All violent feeling takes possession of the mind, masters the
attention, and precludes the due carrying out of the intellectual
processes. Nice intellectual work, such as discovering unob-
trusive differences or similarities among objects, or following out
an intricate chain of reasoning, is impossible except in a compara-
tively calm state of mind. Even when there is no strong emo-
tional agitation present, intellectual processes may be interfered
with by the subtile influence of the feelings on the thoughts work-
ing in the shape of bias. Thus a child that finds a task distasteful
is apt to reject the idea that the study is useful. His feeling of
dislike prejudices his mind and blinds him to considerations
which he would otherwise recognize. Hence the special difiicul-
' Outlines of Psychology, pp. 21-22.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUEN'CE. 67
ties which, as every teacher knows, are couuected with the intel-
lectual training of children of a highly emotional temperament.
On the other hand, as we saw above, all intellectual activity,
since it implies interest, depends on the presence of a certain
moderate degree of feeling. It may be said, indeed, that all
good and eflfective intellectual work involves the presence of a
gentle wave of pleasurable emotion. Attention is more livel3',
images recur more abundantly, and thought traces out its relations
more quickly when there is an under-current of pleasure. Hence
rapid intellectual progress is furthered by lively intellectual
feelings
We thus see how the cultivation of intellect and of emotion in-
volve one another in a measure. In order to exercise the intel-
lectual powers to the utmost, we must aim at making study
pleasurable. And if we wish to strengthen the higher emotions,
such as the moral sentiment and the love of truth, we must seek
to exercise the intellectual powers. ^
And finally, in discussing the relation of willing to
knowing and feeling, he notes again an opposition and a
connection:
The outgoings of the mind in action, involving the excitation or
"innervation" of the motor nerves and muscles, are incompatible
with the comparatively passive state of observing something or
thinking aboiit something, with its phj'sical accompaniment of
bodily stillness. The man of energetic action is popularly con-
trasted with the man of reflection. Similarly, strong emotional
excitement and action are incompatible, and the man of strong
will is one who among other things brings emotion under con-
trol.
At the same time, voluutarj- action always includes an element
of knowing and feeling. The motive to voluntary action, the end
or thing desired, is the gratification of some feeling, e. g., ambi-
tion, or the love of applause. And we cannot act for a purpose
without knowing something about the relation between the action
we are performing and the result we are aiming at. Thus it is
feeling which ultimately supplies the stimulus or force to voli-
tion, and intellect which guides or illumines it. '^
1 Outlines 0/ Psychology, pp. 451, 452, 453.
2 Ibid, pp. 573, 574.
68 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
From the premises before us two or three simple but
important pedagogical rules are derived. One is that a
gentle glow or wave of pleasurable feeling should play
over the mind of the individual pupil and through the
school. The intellect thrives best in a suitable emotional
climate. Courage, hopefulness, appreciation, rather than
their opposites, should temper the atmosphere of the
schoolroom. Optimism is more congenial to the normal
mind than pessimism. Another rule is that pupils should
be protected against strongly excited feeling, no matter
whether the feeling is their own or that of another into
which they enter through sympathy. The wheels of the
intellect, so to speak, will not revolve freely in a flood of
turbulent emotion. No gusts of anger, cjxlones of pas-
sion, or waves of sympathetic impulse in the school!
Especially is the feeling that the teacher is unjust very
harmful to the pupil. No immediate reference is here
made to morals. ' ' Nothing retards the acquirement of
the power of directing the intellectual processes so much, ' '
says Dr. Carpenter, in a striking passage, "as the
emotional disturbance which the feeling of injustice pro-
vokes." ' Again, genuine interest may reach too high a
* This more extended passage may be quoted: "Those 'strong-
miuded' teachers who object to these modes of ' making things
pleasant,' as an unworthy and undesirable 'weakness,' are ignorant
that in this stage of the child-mind, the will — that is, the power of
Jd^//'-control — is weak; and that the primary object of education is
to encourage and strengthen, not to repress, that power. Great
mistakes are often made by parents and teachers, who, being
ignorant of this fundamental fact of child-nature, treat as zcil/ul-
ncss what is in reality just the contrary of will-fulness; being the
direct result of the want of volitional control over the automatic
activity of the brain. To punish a child for the want of obedience
which it has not the power to render, is to inflict an injury which
may almost be said to be irreparable. For nothing tends so much
to prevent the healthful development of the moral sense, as the
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 69
pitch. When Sir Isaac Newton saw that the train of
reasoning which he had so long been following would
establish his working hypothesis, his emotions would
not allow him to continue, and he was obliged to
hand his manuscripts over to a friend to complete the
work.
Next, we come to the intellectual activities as cong?'2ions
and incongruous. — Here we reach the application of the law
of congruity to education that, considered from the point
of view of the school, is the most important of all. So
much will be admitted by those at least who regard teach-
ing as the main function of the school. We must there-
fore proceed more slowly with this division of the subject.
In fact, it is the main topic of this report. Still, it is not
proposed to deal in detail with the nature or the relations
of the cognitive elements. These elements are treated in
every text-book of psychology; and, although some of
the treatment may be false, the commonly accepted views
will answer the present purpose.
infliction of punishment which the child feels to be utij'ust; and
nothing retards the acquirement of the power of directing the in-
tellectual processes so much as the emotional disturbance which
the feeling of injustice provokes. Hence the determination, often
expressed, to break the will of an obstinate child by punishment,
is almost certain to strengthen these reactionary influences.
Many a child is put into ' durance vile ' for not learning ' the
little busy bee,' who simply cannot give its small mind to the task,
whilst disturbed by stern commands and threats of yet severer
punishment for a disobedience it cannot help; when a suggestion
kindly and skillfully adapted to its automatic nature, by directing
the turbid current of thought and feeling into a smoother channel,
and guiding the activity which it does not attempt to oppose, shall
bring about the desired result, to the surprise alike of the bafiled
teacher, the passionate pupil, and the perplexed bystanders," —
Mental Psychology, pp. 134-135,
yO STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
I. Here, as in the case of cognition, feeling, and will,
we observe both mutual opposition and reciprocal aid. Up
to a certain point, cognitive elements grow together; be-
yond that point, the greater the energy expended on one
kind of reaction, the less can be expended on another
kind. The completed action of perception involves mem-
ory; but energetic observation, as of a single object, is at
the expense of memory, while intense memory-, on the
other hand, tends to withdraw attention from surround-
ing objects. The imagination stimulates the thought-
processes until the point is reached where it assumes the as-
cendant and reflection retires into the background. Imag-
ination and reflection, both in an excited state, cannot
dwell together in the same person or hardly in the same
house. Sense-perception furnishes the logical faculties
needed materials; still, become too obtrusive, sense-per-
ception is fatal to thought. Men or peoples who li\-e in
the senses do not live in the reason, and vice versa.
This point is pedagogically so important that we ma}'
well dwell upon it a little longer. The Natural
Realists make the sense-elements of knowledge prominent
in the school. Originating as a reaction from excessive
devotion to the printed page, the Realistic movement has
been most fruitful of good results. With it are identified
the great names of Comenius and Pestalozzi. To it we
are indebted for the enlargement of science teaching, and
the extended use of object lessons and objective methods
of instruction. At the same time, the true limits of sense-
realism are soon reached. Knowledge begins with the
senses, but does not end with tlie senses. Properly
speaking, a developing mind soon lea\x'S them behind.
vSensation is l)ut a coarse form of feeling, and is subject to
the same law as feeling. An excess of .sense-elements in
the mind smothers the rational elements. A blinding
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 7 1
flash of lightning or a deafening peal of thunder arrests
the operations of the higher mental activities; while less
powerful sense impressions produce a more lasting, if a
less intense, effect. The great scientific discoveries have
not been made in immediate contact with nature, but in
the retirement of the study. Nor is time the only ele-
ment that is involved in this fact; when immediate con-
tact exists, and is vital, nature may overpower the
mind. It has been said that the machine may be lost
in its parts, or the picture in the colors that compose it.
Equally may the universe be lost in the multitude of the
stars. Concentrated attention upon the teduiic of an art
retards the development of its higher elements. A house-
builder is not likely to excel as an architect ; the practical
elements of the trade exclude the ideal elements that
are essential to the art. On this basis Aristotle's
prejudice against useful studies rested. " There can be
no doubt, ' ' he wrote, ' ' that children should be taught
those useful things which are really necessary, but not all
things; for occupations are divided into liberal and illiberal;
and to 5'oung children should be imparted only such kinds
of knowledge as will be useful to them without vulgar-
izing them. And an}' occupation, art, or science which
makes the body or soul or mind of the freeman less fit for
the practice or exercise of virtue, is vulgar; wherefore we
call those arts vulgar which tend to deform the body, and
likewise all paid employments, for they absorb and degrade
the mind. ' ' *
Abstract thinking— the thinking of relations and unities
— which is the highest form of thought, is possible only
when the mind has been unsensed or dematerialized.
Whether instruction in physics should begin with theory
or experiment is a mooted question. Begin where the
» The Politics, VIII : 2.
72 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
teacher may, he has not taught the subject until he has
taught those logical elements that give it its character.
Still more, an excess of brilliant experiments may hinder
rather than hasten the work. Experiments are like ex-
amples, of which it has been said :
Examples may be heaped until they hide
The rules that they were made to render plain.
II. The practical application of the principles of con-
gruence to teaching involves the selection and grouping
of studies. It brings before us the large subject to which
the terms ' ' correlation, ' ' ' ' coordination, ' ' ' ' organiza-
tion," and "concentration" of studies have been some-
what indiscriminately applied. It is not proposed to
discuss these terms in this report, or even the subject
itself, save as it involves fundamental principles. But to
do even as much as this makes it necessary to state the
principal laws relating to mental energy.
1. When any stimulus, as a sense object, an idea, or a
lesson, is applied to the mind, the mind is not at once
fully energized, but some time must elapse before it swells
to the maximum of power.
2. This maximum of power continues for a time, or,
in the language of science, mental energy tends to persist.
3. The maximum cannot, however, be indefinitely
maintained. On the contrary, when the mental current
reaches what may be called the fatigue-point it begins to fall
off in volume, but the fall is less rapid than the previous
rise. Still the volume can be temporarily renewed,
in part or in whole, by the application of a stronger
stimulus.
4. An interruption of the mental current retards the
energizing process, or frustrates the reaching of the
maximum of power. Such interruption is caused by the
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE, 73
introduction of incongruous materials. If the incon-
gruity be of a marked character, the mind will come to a
state of rest, or a new current flowing from a new center
will be started.
5. Through repetition, the energizing process becomes
easier and more rapid. Repeated activity in the same
direction tends to groove the mind, or, to change the fig-
ure, the stream of activity digs out for itself a permanent
channel of discharge.
6. Mental power is of two kinds, specific and generic.
In other words, the power that is generated in any activ-
ity can be fully used again in the same kind of activity,
but only partly used in other kinds — the measure of the
difference being the relative unlikeness of the two
activities.
7. Mental fatigue, like mental power, is also specific or
generic. The mind may need rest from a certain kind of
activity, or it may need rest from all kinds, or from all
energetic kinds.
These psychic laws have their analogues in physical
laws. The phj^siological psychologists find the causes
in nerve and brain action, the explanation going back to
the familiar functions of waste and repair. Moreover,
these laws cannot be stated in quantitative terms. No one
can tell, in general, how long it takes fully to energize a
mind at a given time, or how far removed the fatigue-
point is from the initial point of greatest energy. Very
much depends upon age, discipline, phj^sical health, the
character of the stimulus, mental aptitude, and other cir-
cumstances. As a rule, the periods lengthen as the indi-
vidual passes from childhood to 3'outh and from j^outli to
manhood. That is, a man's mental force is less quickh'
aroused and mobilized than a child's, but it tends to per-
sist much longer.
74 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
III. From the laws of congruence and energy we derive
some important rules of teaching, and as they, or at least
some of them, bear on the selection and grouping of
studies they will be stated in this place. While these
laws are applicable to all grades of teaching, they are par-
ticularly iiuportant in relation to primary teaching.
1. Sufficient time must be allowed for the pupil to
collect his energies, to mobilize his forces. Slow and
halting recitations tend to dulness of mind, while hurried
recitations develop either confusion or shallowness. There
must be a certain singleness or isolation of the fact or idea.
"The child must be accustomed to give one impression
time to take root," says Radestock, "and not follow it
immediatel}' b}^ a corresponding action, that it ma}' not
pass away with that action into air. ' ' The same writer
quotes the following from Lazarus, with approval : ' 'Deep
thinking requires time; it is therefore a great pedagogical
mistake if teachers — as is now generally done — urge their
pupils to answer rapidly, and praise those who immedi-
ately have an answer ready. This causes everything to
be lowered to a mere effort of mechanical memory. The
pupil should be given time for individual contemplation,
for deep and energetic thought-labor."^ This does not
imply that lessons are not to be well prepared and subjects
well thought out beforehand. When the fullest prepara-
tion has been made, there is still opportunity for energetic
thought at the time of the recitation.
2. The pupil .should be held to the same subject as long
as the mental current flows with full volume. To no new
subject can all the energy that has been aroused by any
activity be transferred, and to some subjects none what-
ever. Unnecessary changes from subject to subject, or from
lesson to lesson, involve the dissipation, and .subsequent
1 Habit, pp. 36-37.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 75
loss, of both time and power, the amount of which will
depend mainly upon the relative congruity or incongruity
of the different subjects or activities. More power can be
transferred from Latin to Greek than from French to
German. This is Dr. Bain's explanation of the rule
laid down: "We know well enough that the nervous
currents, when strongly aroused in any direction, tend
to persist for some time; in the act of learning, this
persistence will count in stamping a new impression ; while
part of the effect of a lesson must be lost in hurrying with-
out a moment's break to something new, even although
the change is of the nature of relief"^ Shifting the
mind from one subject to another may be compared to
shifting a locomotive from one track to another; or, better
still, it may be compared to shifting locomotives ever}' mile.
3. Advantage should be taken of favoring times to do
certain kinds of work. The more difficult subjects .should
be pursued b}' a pupil or student when both body and
mind are fresh and vigorous. It is the flood-tide, not the
ebb-tide, that brings the great ships up to the dock.
4. Before the pupil reaches the fatigue-point, the teacher
should permit him either to take up another subject or to
drop .study for the time altogether. By the fatigue-point
is meant, not the listlessncss or dulncss of inattention, but
weariness growing from legitimate labor. Persistent
application on a stream of falling energy involves waste
of time and power, and may lead to serious results. To
.some extent, no doubt, the needed relief can be had
through a change of method or by bringing forward
some new aspect of the subject-
5. Whether the pupil should take up a new study or
drop all stud}' for the time, depends upon the kind o{
fatigue that has supervened. Diminished power for one
1 John Stuart Mill, p. 23,
76 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
activity is not diminished power for all activities. Thus,
a pupil who has studied arithmetic or algebra as long as
it is profitable to-day, will take up geography or history
with interest, and vice versa. To a degree, studies are
like gases, they are vacuums one to another. As a jar
that is already filled with hydrogen will still hold as
much carbonic acid as a jar of the same size that is
empty, so a pupil that is satisfied for the present with
mathematics will pursue literature with interest and profit.
6. The school course of study should be made up with
constant reference to the psychic laws that have been laid
down. Studies should be chosen and combined; that is,
with reference to economy of time and power. Into the
question how far ps}'chology, and how far environment,
should control the educational ideal, and so the educa-
tional material, we need not enter. No one denies that
pyschology must largely influence the choice of studies
and almost wholly control their coordination.
7. In particular should the working programme of the
.school be made up with reference to the same principles,
and for the same reasons.
8. The principle of congruence and its limitations have
important applications to elective studies in colleges and
universities. In filling out election blanks, it is believed
that students who are wholly left to themselves often choo.se
studies which make strange bedfellows. Nor is this sur-
prising; the criteria that should govern such choices are
considerably subtile and intricate. This topic, however,
will come before us again.
The arguments on which the three last rules rest are
practically the same. They involve the important sub-
ject of concentration. Congruent studies reenforce one
another with respect to both content and mental aptitude:
one subject involves other subjects. The physicist must
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 77
be a mathematician, the historian must be acquainted
with politics and poHtical economy, and the geologist must
be familiar with chemistry, botan}', and zoology. For a
time depth and breadth vary directly, after that indirectly.
But in the absolute sense a specialist is an impossibility.
An astronomer cannot study the moon by itself, or a physi-
ologist the eye. No one object or subject can be under-
stood when taken alone; it is related to other objects; it is
a part of the universe. Still, to be effective the mind
must be grooved, and this involves the repetition of the
same act and of similar acts. Once more, if the practi-
cal requirements of the school compel a study to be dis-
continued before the fatigue-point is reached, thus depart-
ing from the ideal, then some related subject maybe taken
up, because more of the power that has been accumulated
can be transferred to a related than to an unrelated sub-
ject. And still the nearness of the pupil to the fatigue-
point must be considered. In other words, whether a
pupil should be transferred to a related or an unrelated
subject, must depend upon himself and his present mental
condition.
IV. But congruence alone must not dictate the course of
study, the daily school programme, or the college student's
elections. Fortunately, there may be power for one sub-
ject when there is none for another subject. We have
spoken of the mind under the similitude of a stream or
current. The fact is, however, that the mind is less like
a river from which you may take water for any purpose,
than it is like a bank where the total amount of money on
deposit is divided among many different accounts, and is
subject to check by as many different persons. There
may be money for the teacher of history or literature when
there is none for the teacher of mathematics or physics.
78 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
This is due to specialization of powers — to the difference
between specific and generic force. The one-study col-
lege is therefore just as unphilosophical as the school
that breaks the hours up into crumbs of time. Thus the
fundamental laws of mental energ}^ or of interest if you
will, impose a veto upon an exaggerated form of concen-
tration.
It is further to be observed that concentration is a rela-
tive term at best. No wise teacher proposes to limit the
pupil to a single study or class of exercises. To do so
would in reality involve the dogma of formal discipline in
its most extreme form. Another remark is that concen-
tration in the lower school may be overdone as easily as
expansion in the higher school. It has been shown
time and again that the child may be overtaught certain
subjects. His impressible mind may be so deeply and
narrow^}' grooved that it can never be broadly cultivated.
It becomes indurated, as it were. This result may be due
in part to the intensit}^ of the activity, but it is more due
to its persistence. As the mind matures, there is less and
less need of caution on this point. The pupil gets farther
and farther away from the mechanical elements of knowl-
edge, becomes more and more occupied with the higher
elements, and so is less responsive to narrowing influences.
While the child's activities must be duly limited, his
full development still calls for a relative profusion of
educational material.
Once more, congruence itself is not an abstract quality
of studies. On the contrar}-, it is eminently concrete. The
practical question is not the general one, whether such and
such studies or topics will go well together in general, but
the specific one, whether they will go well together in the
case of such or such a student. Studies that sometimes repel
at other times attract one anotlier; or studies that seem to
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 79
have no affinities, but the contrary, dwell together in some
minds in perfect unity. It is common to find students
who excel in studies as unlike as literature or language
and mathematics or phj^sics. The rule, however, is
probably the other way. For some reasons it would be
better to speak of the congruence of mental faculties
than of studies.
At this point some very practical questions confront the
teacher and superintendent. How long should a pupil be
kept at work on the same subject? How much work
should he do in one school-day ? How frequently should
he change from one subject to another? How many
studies should he have ? No man can answer these ques-
tions in formulae; the teacher and superintendent must
answer them as they arise, and to do so they will find their
best observation and judgment seriously taxed. It may
well be doubted whether the common schools are not now
sacrificing the best results to swollen programmes and
short exercises. The question is one that the superin-
tendent should study with a transcript of the foregoing
facts in one hand and his course of study and time-table
in the other. There is no reasonable doubt that much
exdl in the school that is now charged to the account of
overwork, should rather be charged to work that is done
in the wrong way.
The psychic facts to which the names of congruence
and energy have been given, demand fuller investigation
than they have hitherto receix^ed. It is well known that
school programmes, both in respect to the coordination
of subjects and the length of exercises, commonly rest
upon a crude empirical basis. The factors that control
those who make them, appear to be the necessities of the
school, real or supposed, tradition, and individual experi-
ence. This empiricism is not surprising, considering the
8o STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
meager attention that psychologists and pedagogists have
given to the principles that underlie good school pro-
grammes. Very little attention has been given to the
time elements involved in psychic energy as applied to
school exercises. When three heavy subjects appear upon
the programme for the day — subjects demanding the fixa-
tion of the attention — you will not indeed commonly find
them all crowded into the same session; but that is about
as far as the attempt to accomodate the work to the pupil's
ability in this regard has been carried. Such delicate
questions as these occur: How much time elapses between
the application of different stimuli to the child-mind at
different ages, and the development of maximum psychic
power ? How long is the interval between such maximum
and the fatigue-point ? In respect to the swelling of the
mental current to its full volume, and in respect to its
persistence, how much depends upon the pupil's age ?
How much upon his mental character ? How much upon
the peculiar stimuli at different ages ? And how much
upon the teacher's skill ? It is easy to translate these
questions into the practical interests of the school. They
cannot be answered without much careful observation and
collaboration of facts. The whole subject should enlist
the serious attention of students of child-study, both
under its physiological and psychological aspects, and it is
earnestly recommended to their attention,
V. The correlation of the teacher and the text-book,
if one be used, demands something more than passing
notice. Dr. Bain has said that undoubtedly the best of all
ways to learn anything is to have a competent teacher
"dole out a fixed quantity of matter every day, just
sufficient to be taken in and no more; the pupils to apply
themselves to the matter so imparted, and to nothing else.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 8l
The singleness of aim is favorable," he urges, "to the
greatest rapidit}^ of acquirement; and any defects should
be left out of account until one thread of ideas is firmly
set in the mind." Still he admits that not unfrequently,
and not improperlj^ the teacher has a text-book to aid
him in his work. To make this a help and not a hin-
drance demands the greatest delicac)', since the pupil
must be kept in one single line of thought, and never
be required to comprehend on the same point conflict-
ing or varying statements. Even the foot-notes may have
to be disregarded in the first instance, since they act like
a second author, and so keep up an irritating friction.'
Nothing else is so essential to successful elementary
teaching as unity or congruence of subject-matter. Dr.
Bain does not exaggerate the value of the "one thread of
ideas," or the "one single line of thought." His scruple
about foot-notes even is often justified. These more defi-
nite rules will determine the teacher's general relations to
the text-book.
1. If the book is the main source of instruction, the
teacher should teach the book; that is, the matter of the
book. If foot-notes tend to confuse, what shall be said of
a teacher who takes an independent line from the begin-
ning? No wise teacher certainly would give a pupil
who is just beginning, a new subject two text-books.
A good Sunday school-teacher, dealing with the life of
Jesus in a primary class, would not try to follow all
the Gospels, or even two of them, at the same time;
rather than do that, it would be better to select his
material here and there and to blend it in a new gospel
of his own. The teacher may teach something more or
something less than the book teaches on a single point,
but nothing different or contradictory.
* Practical Essays, pp. 218-219.
82 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
2. The teacher should also follow the methods of pre-
sentation that the book emploj's. Nothing could be more
absurd than for a teacher who has assigned to a class a
lesson that is presented inductively to go ahead and teach
it deductively.
3. The teacher should study to make the first presenta-
tion of a lesson successful. If a second presentation
is required, besides the loss of time, the mind is left in
a littered-up condition that is confusing. This is the rea-
son why it is often more difi&cult to teach a subject well
to a pupil to whom it has been imperfectly taught than
to a person to whom it is wholly unknown.
4. If the subject-matter of the book or of a single les-
son is radically bad, or the method decidedly faulty, it
should be laid aside altogether. If only certain portions
are objectionable, or certain methods of presentation, the
teacher should not assign these to be studied, but should
teach such subjects de novo. This observation assumes,
of course, that the teacher is able to do so.
5. The wise teacher will not present a subject in more
than one way, unless he has failed in the first way. It
is folly to give a second explanation of the division of a
fraction by a fraction, if the first explanation has been un-
derstood. The same remark will apply to casting interest
and to many other subjects. It is well enough for the
author of an arithmetic to give two or more methods of
performing these operations, thus giving the teacher an
option; but the teacher should choose the method which
he thinks best adapted to his purpose, and then adhere to
it until the subject is thoroughly taught. At the stage
of teaching now supposed, never give more than one defi-
nition or rule on a single point. Superfluous illustrations
also not only do no good, but they do positive harm,
begetting confusion worse confounded.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 83
It will be understood that these rules relative to the
use of the text-book apply particularly to the early stages
of teaching, and that they would require very important
modifications if they are to be applied to the advanced,
rational, or critical stage of education. Narrow teaching
must come before broad teaching. In time the pupil, if
rightly handled, will get out of his single line of thought;
will be able to deal with subjects; can criticize and weigh
different definitions, contradictory views and rules, and
opposing opinions; can use a variety of books, compare
authorities, and employ different methods of procedure.
Thus, Dr. Bain recommends that in geometry the pupil
should be held strictly to Euclid until he has become
thoroughly at home on the main ideas and leading propo-
sitions; then he is safe in dipping into other manuals,
comparing differences of treatment, and widening his
knowledge by additional theorems and by various modes
of demonstration.^ But the time when all this can be
done will not be hastened by pushing the pupil forward
prematurely. The teacher who inundates the pupil with all
kinds of things is the pupil's worst enemy, unless indeed
it be the teacher who keeps him too long and too intensely
harping on the same string. It is only the knowledge
that really energizes the mind which is valuable.
If it be objected that these rules contemplate a text-book
grind, two replies may be made. It is not attempted to sa>-
how far books should be used in teaching, or to discuss the
relations of oral teaching and book teaching. The rules laid
down assume that books will be used, though not to the
exclusion of the other method. Books have been used in
schools since the invention of writing, or at least since the
invention of printing, and our oral methods and real teach-
ing will not dislodge them. But, further, much that has
^Practical Essays, p. 216.
84 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
been said under this head applies to oral teaching. The
teacher should not be contradictory, but consistent; should
aim to make the first presentation of a subject successful,
and should adhere to a single line of ideas until it is fixed in
the mind, no matter whether he teaches orally or uses a
book. In fact, there is the more reason for emphasizing
some of the rules laid down in the case of oral teaching,
because the pupil then has less opportunity to clarify his
mind by a comparison of ideas and statements.
At least mention should be made of examinations, over
which so fierce a contention has been waged in recent years.
There is no reason to hope, or to fear, that they will pass out
of the school. None are likely to deny that examinations
are a very valuable teaching exercise. Nor is there much
reason to doubt that they will continue to be used as tests
at promotion time — to a less degree than twenty years ago,
let us hope! Heretofore slight attention has been paid to
the relations of studies in arranging programmes of ex-
aminations. The nearness or remoteness of studies from
one another has been little regarded. At another point, a
much more serious mistake has been made. Pupils have
sometimes been shifted from subject to subject so frequently
that they have had little opportunity to show what the}'
could do; and then again they have been kept at work
until both the specific and the generic fatigue-points have
been passed. The correction of both evils must be sought
in the laws of congruence and energy,
VI. It has already been remarked that the laws of con-
gruity and energy bear on the college or university
student's choice of electives. How many subjects should
such a student have at the same time, and what should be
their relations? Should he scatter his energies over a
large field, or concentrate them on a small one ?
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE, 85
Professor Trowbridge, discussing some j-ears ago the
subject of economy in college work, urged that the Har-
vard student should study two subjects for at least three
months, and two subjects onl}'; one of these should be a
hard subject, giving plentj^ of opportunity for applica-
tion, while the other might be a comparatively light sub-
ject that could serve as a mental rest through the change
which it afforded. At the end of three months two other
subjects might be taken up, and the first ones be relin-
quished for a time; and so on to the end of the course.
After observing that some studies are so nearl}^ related
that intellectual effort in one is of service to an-
other, while others are not; that Latin and Greek, phil-
osophy and histor}^ political economy and history, are
examples of the one class, while German and French,
chemistr}' or phj'sics and philosophy, are examples of the
other, he examined the nineteen or twenty subjects which
form in the main the elective curriculum of Har\'ard
University. He found that the division of subjects could
be reduced to twelve by grouping the subjects which
aid each other, as follows: Latin and Greek; French and
French history; German and German history; politi-
cal economy and history; chemistry alone or in conjunction
with English; Spanish and Spanish histor}-; philosophy
and history; physics alone; Semitics and ancient history;
fine arts and music with English, or fine arts and music as
a let-up with an}- of the severer studies; mathematics and
English; romance philolog}^ and its suitable language.
Having twelve subjects, the student could pursue three of
these in the nine months of each college 5'ear, and in four
3-ears he could accomplish the whole twelve, provided, of
course, he wished to take all the subjects enumerated. ^
This scheme has been introduced mainly for the sake of
» The Atlantic Monthly, November, 1S88, pp.GTl, 672.
86 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
illustration. In criticising it we should remember that at
Harvard University all studies are elective, save only a
modicum of English and physics. Still, it may be said
that, although propounded for a laudable purpose, the
scheme is open to one or more serious objections. Within
the successive three months' periods, study is certainly
over-specialized, and particularly in the first college years.
The common Freshman will not, and cannot, work up
his available power in one main line of study. The laws
of mental energy are violated. The range of interests is
too narrow. In the later years of the course this objec-
tion would be less serious. Other important questions, as
whether the time allotted would be sufficient for the lead-
ing subjects, occur^ but they need not be considered. This
branch of the subject is dismissed with the remark that
college electives call for a fuller examination than the}-
have 3'et received, particularly in respect to the principles
that should iniderlie elections and practical administration.
There is good reason to think that in .some quarters, at
least, laissez /aire has been carried too far.
VII. The last topic to be mentioned is graduate study.
While there is not, or at lea.st should not be, a chasm
between undergraduate and graduate work, still there
are palpable differences of ideal and method involved.
The first period looks to general cultivation; the .second
period, to .special cultivation. The undergraduate need
not lay equal .stress upon all the .studies that he pursues:
he may emphasize some more and some less; but he
should not sacrifice general culture to Greek scholarship,
Latin .scholarship, mathematical scholarship, or any other
kind of .special scholarship. The graduate student, on
the other hand, should go much further on the road to
specialization, and particularly the candidate for the
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 87
doctor's degree. But even here specialization may be
overdone. It is not desirable that the student should
confine himself for three years to a special line of stud3\
The first objection to such a course is, that it overgrooves
the mind at the age of the ordinary student who is doing
such work. Even the graduate student should not lose
sight of general cultivation and fall into stark profession-
alism. But secondly, a single study will not absorb to
advantage the student's powers. It will be carried on in
derogation of the law of specific and generic fatigue. One
brain tract will be overworked while others are neglected.
If the professional man needs a let-up, or an avocation, to
keep his mind out of the ensnaring groove, much more the
student who is still lingering in the schools.
Then how many subjects should the graduate student
have? The answer will depend somewhat upon the
student himself, as well as upon other considerations. As
a rule, there should be at least two distinct lines of work,
one of which may be heavy and one light. The first
ma}^ include different subjects chosen with reference to
congruity, as Greek literature and Greek history, Latin
literature and Roman history; but there should certainly
be a second distinct line of work, separate and apart from
the first one, also made up with regard to congruity,
that will at once cultivate breadth and also consume time
and power that the main subject cannot absorb.
At this point a cautionary remark ma)' be dropped. It
is a mistake to suppose that subjects are congruous
merely because they bear the same name in part. Con-
gruity is determined by elements and not by words. For
example, how much have Greek literature and Greek
antiquities, or Latin literature and Roman antiquities, in
common ? Certainly less than some enthusiastic scholars
are wont to assume.
88 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Perhaps it will be said that this report is conser\'ative
on the subject of specialization. This is no accident.
There is great reason for reconsidering the relations of
education and erudition. Professor Davidson, of our
own country, says it is the failure to draw this necessary
distinction " that is misleading our universities into the
error of allowing students to ' elect ' specialities before
they have completed the cj-cle of education, the result of
which is that we have few men of thorough education or
of broad and comprehensive views. If this evil is ever
to be remedied," he urges, "our universities will be
obliged either to abandon this practice, or else to give up
all attempt to impart education, and devote themselves
solely to erudition, leaving the other to academies,
gymnasia, or the like. "^
Professor Butcher, contending for the unity of learning,
declares that it is at present endangered by disintegrating
tendencies. He alleges that excessive specialization is
the death of .science, and that it involves the dissolution
of society. " Conceive, if 3'ou can," are his words, " a
world of specialists, in which each man' s vision and labor
is concentrated on some microscopic point in the field of
human activity, and the verj^ ider. of a political and social
organism disappears. There is a point at which the
siibdivision of labor in the intellectual sphere must be
checked, and some unifying principle introduced, if we
are to retain any rational conception of man, or of the
world, or of human life."'
Professor I,aurie, of Edinburgh, also observes: "The
stress of competition among individuals and nations com-
pels us, unhappily, more and more to give a specific
character to our training, and to ignore the larger national
' The Education of the Creek People, p. 2.'?.
2 Some Aspects of the Greek Goiius, pp. 200, 210.
THE LAWS OF MENTAL CONGRUENCE. 89
and hitman aims. It is clear, however, that in so far as
we lose sight of the latter in the interest of the former we
err: because it is the broad hitman and national element
in education that gives character and power. If we fail
in giving this, all specific activities of mind will be weak-
ened by the weakening of their foundation in the man as
a man. In the systematization of education accordingly,
the real problem amounts in these daj^s to this: How
shall we rear specific aptitudes on the basis of a com-
mon instruction and discipline which shall contemplate
the man and the citizen, atid onh' in the second place the
worker?"^
And finally, Professor Paulsen sounds a note of warn-
ing from the greatest of the German universities. Plead-
ing for the unity of the university, he speaks of the
danger of disintegration through the diminished influence
of the faculty of arts- "Of course," hesaj's, ''there is no
possibility of retrogression in the division of labor, upon
which depend the mighty advances of scientific research.
We are called upon, however, to oppose the spirit of
'specialism,' of over-narrow self-confinement and small-
soitled satisfaction with one's self: and everyone who
belongs to a universit}' is likewise called upon to help
along the opposition." Dr. Paulsen suggests several
remedies, the principal one of which is the maintenance
of the old conception of liberal culture. "In particular,
the tendency toward generalization of study, the philo-
sophical sense which ever stands ready to turn the details
to good account in the service of the ultimate and highest
insight, must always find its proper home in the faculty of
philosophy. Herein may be found a peculiarly appro-
priate field for 'public' lectures; to present to a wider circle
of hearers, to the disciples of all related branches of
' Pre-Christian Education, Introduction.
90 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
learning, whatever problems and results of general inter-
est are included in a special subject." ^
This report has embraced so many topics that its leading
purpose may possibly have become somewhat obscured.
At all events, it will be well to restate that purpose in a
few clear terms. This is to apply the law of mental con-
gruence, as limited by the laws of mental energy, to some
important pedagogical problems, as the fabrication of a
course of study, the making up of a working programme
for a school, the choice of college electives, and the sub-
ject of graduate study. Congruence means the meeting
or bringing together of things that are consonant or re-
lated; and as applied to the problems enumerated it looks
to the deepening, broadening, and strengthening of study
and teaching by coordinating those studies and elements
of studies that tend to support and reenforce one another.
Full discussion has not been attempted. It is hoped that
the leading principles have been clearly and strongly
stated, and that they have been so firmly applied to the
problems enumerated that the report may prove useful as
a basis for further study.
1 The German Universities, p. 2:54. Translated by E. D. PerrN-.
IV.
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF
TEACHING.
HE word ' ' science ' ' is derived from the lyatin
scientia {scire, to hiow), and means knowl-
edge. The word " art " comes from the
'LiOXin ars (apei^, X.o Jit, to join together), and
means skill, contrivance, or method.
The fundamental difference between the two is that the
object of science is knowledge, while the objects of art
are works. In general the distinction is the same as that
between theory and practice. Theory is knowledge,
practice is doing. Both spring from activity, but from
different kinds of activity. Science, or theory, involves
primarily intellectual activity; practice, or art, enlists the
faculties, aptitudes, and dexterities of the body. Com-
monly, however, the two elements are more or less inter-
mingled, as we shall see hereafter.
But while art is primarily doing or skill in an active
or practical form, it is secondarily a body of rules intended
to direct or guide doing or skill. This is an important
distinction. Archbishop Thomson says: "The distinc-
tion between science and art is, that a science is a body of
principles and deductions to explain the nature of some
object-matter. An art is a body of precepts with practical
skill for the completion of some work. A science teaches
us to know, an art to do." Both aspects of art are
here recognized, but not in their natural order. Mr. J.
S. Mill says: "Science and art differ from one another
91
92 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
as the understanding differs from the will, or as the in-
dicative mood in grammar differs from the imperative.
The one deals in facts, the other in precepts. Science is a
collection of truths; art a bod}- of rules or directions for
conduct. The language of science is, ' This is,' or ' This
is not,' ' This does or does not happen.' The language of
art is, 'Do this,' 'Avoid that. vScience takes cognizance
of a phenomenon, and endeavors to discern its law; art
proposes to itself an end, and looks out for means to
effect it.' " Nothing could be better than this as far as it
goes; but it will be seen that Mr. Mill limits art to rules
and precepts, that is, to a body of teaching, thus over-
looking the purely practical element altogether. Mr.
James Harris commits the same error. "Science," he
says, "gives principles, art gives rules."
The two aspects of art suggest several observations.
1. Power or skill is the fundamental element, as both
the etymolog}' of the word " art " and an analy.sis of the
thing itself show.
2. An art may be practiced, and often is practiced, by
those who have given to the rules governing it little atten-
tion. Such are guided by what is sometimes called ' ' the
rule of thumb." Still more, an art may be carried on,
and commonl}' is carried on even by those who have mas-
tered the rules, without immediate or conscious reference
to them. The rules that such persons practice have be-
come second nature, controlling habit.
3. An art considered as a collection of precepts, methods,
or rules may be studied, and frequently is studied, by
those who do not expect to practice it at all. This they
do as a source of mental improvement or enjoyment.
4. An art as a collection of precepts is knowledge, but
it is not scientific knowledge. Science is concerned with
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. 93
facts and principles ending in themselves ; art with
methods or ways of doing that end in works. In science
truth is the sole end. In art it is a means to an
end. However, if the rules or methods are true and
good they rest on facts and principles. To say,
"The first reaction of the mind upon any subject is
analysis, the second synthesis," is to utter a fact of
science. To sa)^ " Present wholes before parts," "Bind
up parts into wholes, " is to utter rules of teaching. The
person who observes these rules is so far forth a good
practical teacher, exemplifying art in its original sense.
" Repeated representations of an object deeply impress the
mind; " " We know the concrete before the abstract, the
particular before the general, the simple before the com-
plex,"— these are facts from which familiar pedagogical
rules are deduced. Still, it must be remembered that
' ' whole ' ' and ' ' part ' ' are relative words, and that nearly
all objects are one or the other according as they are
viewed. It is not meant of course that teaching should
begin with the largest wholes, as geography with the
globe. Again, it is not alwaj's thought necessary for-
mally to express both terms of this relation. The axiom,
' ' Repetition is the mother of studies, ' ' suggests the correl-
ative rule; while the precept, " Proceed from the known
to the unknown," suggests the correlative fact. Nor are
the two terms always clearly thought out. Men of science
go on discovering facts and truths without thinking of rules
and methods that may be deduced from them; just as
men of practice keep following a rule or a habit without
stopping to think of its cause or reason. Moreover, it is
often more difficult to find a practical application of a
truth or fact than it is to find a scientific support for a
precept or a method. It follows that while science is
knowledge, it is not all knowledge. It is not even all
94 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
systematized or organized knowledge, as the common
definition asserts. A rule or method duly formulated is
also knowledge, and, so far as it goes, organized knowl-
edge as the words themselves imply.
Again, method is used in a reflective or generalized
sense. Methods involve certain general facts or princi-
ples ; that is to say, the}' rest at last upon the human
mind, and so may be subjected to scientific treatment.
Method, accordingly, has its two aspects — one empirical
and one scientific. As a body of rules propounded
immediately to guide practice, method is art pure and
simple, falling of course under the second aspect of that
subject; as a body of rules, the origin, nature, and author-
ity of which are to be explained, it is science pure
and simple. Methodology is commonly used in the
second of these senses. This the word itself suggests:
it is the science of method. Descartes' s celebrated dis-
course on method — the full title of which is ' ' Discourse
on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason and
Seeking Truth in the Sciences " — deals with the methods
of the mind. It is a contribution to philosophy, is a
scientific treatise.
5. It is not strange, therefore, that science and art
are often made to flow together, thus tending to
speculative confusion. Most treatises on the theory
and practice of medicine, and on the science and
the art of teaching, are examples. The theory may
be put by itself in the first part of the book, the
art by itself in the second part; they may be mingled
throughout; but the questions, "Is the characteristic
feature of the matter knowledge or skill ? " " Does
it state a fact or tell you what to do ? " separate
them as a flash of electricity resolves a drop of water into
its component gases. The nature of science, the nature
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. 95
of art as practical skill, and the nature of art as rules are
three different though closely related ideas. They must
be clearl}^ grasped by the .sound thinker: For example,
Cicero treated rhetoric as a science when he stated its
facts and principles; he treated it as a reflective art when
he laid down its rules and methods; he practiced rhetoric
when he made speeches in the Forum and Senate House,
and also, in the modern sense, when he wrote his books,
no matter what the subject.
6. There is a difference of opinion as to the relation in
time of science and art. Dr. McCosh presents this view:
Art has in general preceded science. There were bleaching,
dyeing, and tanning, and artificers in copper and iron before there
■was chemistry to explain the processes used. Men made wine be-
fore there was any theor}- of fermentation; and glass and porcelain
were manufactured before the nature of alkalies and earths had
been determined. The pj-ramids of Nubia and Egypt, the pal-
aces and sculptured slabs of Nineveh, the cyclopean walls of Italy
and Greece, the obelisks and temples of India, the cromlechs and
druidicial circles of countries formerly Celtic, all preceded the sci-
ences of mechanics and architecture. There was music before there
was a science of acoustics; and painting while yet there was no
theory of colors and perspective. ^
Mr. Harris this view:
If there were no theorems of science to guide the operations of
art, there would be no art; but if there were no operations of art,
there might still be theorems of science. Therefore science is prior
to art.
Both of these views are true in part and false in part.
Science is not mere knowledge, but organized knowledge:
art not mere practice, but elaborated or refined practice.
Science is an advanced stage of knowing, as art is an ad-
vanced stage of doing. Hence the question. Which is
older, science or art ? is not the same as the question.
Which is older, knowing or doing? If the terms are
' The Divine Government, p. 140, 8th edition.
96 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
emploj^ed in their strict acceptation, Dr McCosli is right
in general in respect to the early stage of their relations,
while Mr. Harris is equally right in respect to their late
stage; but if the terras are taken In the loose sense of
knowledge and practice, then either one is partly right
and partly wrong throughout the whole history of human
development. There can be no doubt that to-day the arts
depend far more upon the sciences than the vSciences upon
the arts. Dr. Whewell states the true relation thus:
The principles which art involves, scieuce alone evolves. The
truths on which the success of art depends, lurk in the artist's
mind in an undeveloped state, guiding his hand, stimulating his
invention, balancing his judgment, but not appearing in the form
of enunciated propositions Art in its earlier stages, at
least, is widely different from science, independent of it, and
anterior to it. At a later period, no doubt, art may borrow aid
from science. '
To go to the root of the matter, we will take up the
relations of knowing and doing more carefully.
Human acti- 't.es are of two kinds, the .spontaneous and
the volitional, the instinctive and the conscious. The one
kind springs from the automatic nature, the other from
the will. Spontaneous activities antedate birth, and they
cease only with death. They furnish the groundwork of
all education. Leaving out of account the organic func-
tions, such as breathing and digestion, they bring the
child into relation with the external world, and .so fur-
nish the beginning points of knowledge. An infant's in-
stinctive beating of the floor with his feet or of the crib
with his fi.sts, his rolling of his eyes, and a hundred other
instinctive movements mark important stages in his edu-
cation. It is in such ways that he progressively learns
that there is such a thing as environment, something sep-
1 Philosophy 0/ Inductive Science, Vol. II, pp. Ill, 112, 2d Edit.
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. 97
arate and apart from himself. Volitional activities are
performed to accomplish an object, as when a child grasps
a ball or seeks to seize the flame of a lamp. The char-
acteristic of all such activities is aim or purpose, to develop
which — that is, to expand the factors of intelligence and
will in connection with motive — is the proper educational
function. It is sometimes difficult to assign an action to
its class, as automatic or conscious, but that in no way
affects the distinction. While the relation of the two
activities is an important subject, we are not here con-
cerned with it beyond the primary fact that instinct pre-
cedes intelligence.
The relations of doing and learning may be thus summed
up: (1) As we have seen, some of our instinctive activi-
ties lead directly to contact with the external world, and
so result in knowledge of that world and of ourselves. In
this vague primary sense it may be said that all knowl-
edge is conditioned upon doing. (2) Our natural activi-
ties lead to artificial ones, and so to the formation of
habits that lie proximate to knowledge. Such an activity
as walking, for example, enlarges one's knowledge of the
material world. (3) Then there are the accidents that
lead to discovery, as when the Indian hunter, climbing
up the mountain side, laid hold of the bush to sustain his
weight, and, when it came away, saw the silver lying at its
roots. (4) Next may be mentioned those experiments
that are tried to find out something, without any definite
idea or expectation of what it will be. (5) Practice
tends to perfect knowledge that originates in all these
ways. As Bacon sa^-s studies ' ' perfect nature, and are
perfected by experience; for natural abilities are like
natural plants that need pruning by study: and studies
themselves do give forth directions too much at large, ex-
cept they be bounded in by experience. ' '
98 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Important as are the causal effects of practice upon
knowledge, it is easy to exaggerate them. Whenever an
idea, a thought, a datum of intelligence, leadsto activity the
order is reversed. It is just as certain that all the pur-
posive or intentional activities follow knowledge as that
all the instinctive activities precede it; the knowledge
may be rudimentary and imperfect, but it is there. It is
very true that there were bleaching, d}'eing, tanning, and
wine-making before men studied chemistry or discovered
a theory of fermentation; but it is not true that men
bleached and tanned, and made wine before the}' had ideas
of the things which they wanted to do and of the ways in
which they should do them. No doubt nature first taught
men these processes through observation; but men car-
ried them on with purpose from the very beginning, save
as they have been slightly affected by accident. Once en-
tered upon, the process of activity contributed to the
enlargement of knowledge. The arts of teaching, preach-
ing, and healing are older than the corresponding the-
ories. At the same time there was no teaching, preaching,
or healing until those engaging in those activities had
ideas both of ends and of means. The arts and the theo-
ries have grown up together.
The internal relations of the two factors, it is hoped,
have been made plain. The sciences find their applica-
tions and uses in the arts, the arts find their causes and
reasons in the sciences. The reciprocal relations of the
two factors have not been better stated than by Sir Wil-
liam Hamilton in this passage:
The terms " theory " aud "theoretical" are properly used in
opposition to the terms " practice " and "practical "; in this sense
they were exclusively employed by the ancients; and in this sense
they are almost exclusively employed by the Continental philoso-
phers. Practice is the exercise of an art, or the application of a
science, in life, which application is itself an art, for it is not
THE SCIEXCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. 99
everyone who is able to apply all he knows; there being required,
over and above knowledge, a certain dexterity and skill. Theory,
on the contrary, is mere knowledge or science. There is a dis-
tinction, but no opposition, between theory and practice; each to
a certain extent supposes the other. On the one hand, theory is
dependent on practice; practice must have preceded theory; for
theory being only a generalization of the principles on which prac-
tice proceeds, these must originally have been taken out of, or ab-
stracted from, practice. On the other hand, this is true only to a
certain extent; for there is no practice without a theory. The man
of practice must have always known something, however little, of
what he did, of what he intended to do, and of the means by which
hisintention was to be carried into effect. He was, therefore, not
wholly ignorant of the principles of his procedure; he was a lim-
ited, he was, in some degree, an unconscious, theorist. As he
proceeded, however, in his practice, and reflected on his perform-
ance, his theory acquired greater clearness and extension, so that
he became at last distinctly conscious of what he did, and could
give, to himself and others, an account of his procedure.
Per vaHos usus artetn expericntia fecit,
Exeniplo tnonstrante viam.
In this view, theory is therefore simply a knowledge of the
principles by which practice accomplishes its end. ^
The Greeks and the Romans did not distinguish be-
tween the arts and the sciences just as we are accustomed
to do. The Greek Tex»"), which we render art, and from
which we get "technic," "technical," etc., while it is
defined "skill," "craft," "aptitude," in the lexicons,
nearly corresponded with our science: German scholars
have rendered it Wissenschaft. The Latin lexicons define
scientia "knowledge," "science." and "skill;" they define
ars, ' ' skill, ' ' ' 'practice, ' ' and "knowledge;" but, .strangely
enough, measured by our use of terms, the Romans called
what we call the .sciences arfes and not scientiae. Broadly,
however, the Roman arts, in a pedagogical .sense, were
studia, and our word "studies" renders artes much
1 Metaphysics, Lecture X.
lOO STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
better than ' ' sciences " or " arts. ' ' Some of the Latin
arts were arts and some sciences, as we should call them.
The Seven Liberal Arts of the Medieval schools were an
outgrowth of the Graeco- Roman education.^ They were:
TheTRiviUM: Grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric.
The Quadrivium: Music, arithmetic, geometry, and
astronomy.
Gram, loqiiihir; Dia. vera docet; Rhet. verba colorat;
Mils, canit ; Ar. numeral; Geo. pouderat ; Ast. colit
astra.
Our distinction of the arts and .sciences had not been
clearly thought out when all these studies were called
' ' arts, ' ' and in our sense of the word they might have
been more fitly called "sciences." The terms "art,"
' ' the arts, " " mechanic arts, " " industrial arts, " " prac-
tical arts," "fine arts," "polite arts," and "arts" in
' ' arts and sciences ' ' are rather applications of knowl-
edge than knowledge itself; but the phrases " bachelor of
arts, " " master of arts, ' ' and ' ' the counse in arts ' ' still
retain the ancient meaning of the word.
The theoretical relations of .science and art have now
been treated, it is believed, with .sufficient fulness. In-
cidentally, also, the question. Of what value is the study
of a science to the man who practices the corresponding
art ? — has been touched. But that question should receive
fuller treatment. The question is this: What reasons can
be given why the man of practice .should study the prin-
ciples on which his art depends?
Dr. Campbell, discussing this question, says the art of
living is built upon theology and ethics, or religion and
morals; the art of survej'ing and accounting on mathe-
* See Davidson: Aristotle and the Ancient Educational Ideals,
p. 239, et. Seqq.
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. lOI
matics; architecture and navigation on mathematics,
natural philosphy, and geography; surgery on anatomy.
He conckides, on the one hand, that valuable knowledge
always leads to more practical skill and is perfected in it;
on the other hand, that practical skill loses much of its
beauty and extensive utility which does not originate in
knowledge. Accordingly, he likens the relation of science
and art to the relation existing between the parent and
the child. ^ But Dr. Campbell would include the reflective
side of art in science. However, he well illustrates the
common mode of arguing on the question.
In his essay on Lord Bacon, Lord Macaulay handles
the question in this vigorous fashion:
We conceive that the inductive process, like many other pro-
cesses, is not likely to be better performed merely because men
know how they perform it. William Tell would not have been
one whit more likely to cleave the apple if he had known that his
arrow would describe a parabola under the influence of the attrac-
tion of the earth. Captain Barclay would not have been more
likely to walk a thousand miles in a thousand hours, if he had
known the name and place of every muscle in his legs. Monsieur
Jourdaiu probably did not pronounce D and F more correctly
after he had been apprised that D is pronounced by touching the
teeth with the end of the tongue, and F by putting the upper teeth
on the lower lip. We cannot perceive that the study of grammar
makes the smallest difference in the speech of people who have
always lived in good societ}'. Not one Londoner in ten thousand
can lay down the rules for the proper use ofwt'/l and shall, yet not
one Londoner in a million ever misplaces his will and shall.
Dr. Robertson could undoubtedly have written a luminous
dissertation on the use of those words. Yet even in his latest
work he sometimes displaced them ludicrously. No man uses
figures of speech with more propriety because he knows that
one figure is called a metonymy and another a synecdoche. A
drayman, in a passion, calls out, "You are a pretty fellow," with-
out suspecting that he is uttering irony, and that irony is one of
* Philosophy of Rhetoric. — Introduction.
I02 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
the four primary tropes. The old systems of rhetoric were never
regarded by the most experienced and discerning judges as of any
use for the purpose of forming an orator. Egohanc vim intelligo,
said Cicero, esse in prcsceptis omnibus, non ut ea secuti oratores
eloquenticB laudeni sint adepti, sed qua; sua sponte homines elo-
quenies facerent, ea quosdani observasse, atque id egisse, sic esse
non eloquentiani ex artificio, sed artificiiini ex eloquentia natuin.
We must own that we entertain the same opinion concerning the
study of logic which Cicero entertained concerning the study of
Rhetoric. A man of sense syllogises in celarent and cesare all day
long without suspecting it; and, though he may not know what
an ignoratio elenchi is, has no difficulty in exposing it whenever
he falls in with it; which is likely to be as often as he falls in with
a Reverend Master of Arts nourished on mode and figure in the
cloisters of Oxford. Considered merely as an intellectual feat,
the Organum of Aristotle can scarcely be admired too highly.
But the more we compare individual with individual, school with
school, nation with nation, generation with generation, the more
we lean to the opinion that the knowledge of the theory of logic
has no tendency whatever to make men good reasoners.
Like Macaulay's other exaggerations, this one contains
much truth. He is wholly right as to Tell and Barclay,
and partly so as to Jourdain; but such analogies are
too mechanical to apply closely to mental operations.
As to grammar, there can be no doubt, first, that
the fundamental law of language is use and wont; or,
secondly, that the reflective study of language corrects
errors and tends to form a second language nature.
As to logic, it is nonsense, as he says in the context,
to suppose that Aristotle or Bacon thought that he
was doing an3'thing more than to generalize the mental
processes with which he dealt, and to lay down rules for
conducting them. How far these generalizations are
true, and how far these rules are helpful, are perfectly
fair questions. Men learn to reason by reasoning, and
real logic is therefore a far more valuable exerci.se than
formal logic; but to say that study of the theory of reason-
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. 103
ing is useless is to commit the same mistake that Macaulay
falls into in regard to grammar and rhetoric. J. S. Mill,
a much more competent witness on such a subject, de-
clares that to nothing was he more indebted for his power
to think than to the very thorough instruction in the
school logic that he received from his father. ' ' The first
intellectual operation in which I arrived at any pro-
ficiency," he says, " was dissecting a bad argument, and
finding in what part the fallacy lay: and though what-
ever capacity of this sort I attained, was due to the fact
that it was an intellectual exercise in which I was
most perseveringly drilled by my father, yet it is also true
that the school logic, and the mental habits acquired in
studying it, were among the principal instruments of this
drilling. ' ' ^ Many a man has dated a new mental era from
the time that he took up the theories of thought, of
expression, and of conduct.
But the passage quoted involved assumptions that
are only half true. We will narrow the ground: Why
should a teacher bother his head with the phj'siological
and psychological facts that underlie education? In effect
this question has been answered already, but it will be
well to present the answer more sharply.
1, The student-teacher will reap the usual disciplinary
and cultural benefits that follow the study of science.
These benefits will be all the greater because the subject
of study relates to the daily work in which the student is
engaged. The subject of study is not distant and ab-
stract, but near and concrete. Theory is purged by
experience; experience is illuminated by theory. He is
a poor workman indeed, and particularly a teacher,
that has no interest in the rationale of his work. The
teacher, and, through the teacher, the pupil, gets the
1 Autobiography , p. 19.
I04 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
benefit of a stronger and fuller mind. There may
be cases where scientific studies lead to the poorer
practice of an art, owing to the practitioner's absorp-
tion in knowledge as such, but experience shows that
these are exceptional cases, the rule being just the
other way.
2. The teacher enjoj'^s that power of revision and pre-
vision which onl}' deep knowledge of his work can give,
and that satisfaction which can follow only from working
in the open field in the light of day. Experience has con-
firmed, time and again, what theory suggests — that the
practice which is guided solely by habit and routine con-
stantly tends to narrowness and mechanism. It also con-
firms the suggestion that the onh' way to correct this
tendency when formed, or to prevent its formation, is to
vitalize practice by uniting it with knowledge. It is per-
haps true that to the common mind nothing seems less
vital than theoretical knowledge; but if so it is due, at
least in great part, to the unfortunate confounding of
theory with conjecture or h^-pothesis. The Greek con-
ception of theory is the true one. seopia means the in-
tellectual view of a subject, and deep insight into its
nature; hence, to adjust practice to theor}' is to adjust it
to the facts of the case, and to urge that science should
guide practice is much the same thing as urging that
practice should be intelligent.
3. While the principles of science are few and may be
studied exhaustively, the problems and cases of the art
are inexhaustible- An engineer may grasp the princi-
ples on which the building of bridges depends, but he
can never anticipate all their applications. He had
better therefore master his science rather than .seek to
accumulate a great stock of pictures, models, and draw-
ings of bridges, valuable as these are in their proper place.
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. IO5
4. The study of teaching as an art also is sometimes
denounced as useless But it cannot be denied that, to
teach, a man must have an idea of what teaching is, and
some idea of how to do it; and this is knowledge. Even
M, Jourdain, Macaulay to the contrary, may well have
received instructions in the handling of his organs of
speech.
We live in an age of methods. ' 'Tell us how to do it, "
"Give us something that we can carry into the school-
room, ' ' is the cry of thousands of teachers. Educational
journals, and even pedagogical books, are crammed with
devices and tricks that are elevated to the dignity of
methods. Hence it should be said, first, that a method
is good only in so far as it leads quickly and easily to the
chosen end; and, secondly, that it leads to such an end so
far, and so far only, as it embodies a valuable idea or
thought. That is a weak mind which, once in the
possession of a principle, cannot, at least when reinforced
by moderate experience, handle applications as the}' pre-
sent themselves.
Doubtless it would be too much to say that the man
who knows most of the science of painting or sculpture
will paint the best pictures or make the finest statues.
Theoretical knowledge cannot take the place of technical
skill; notwithstanding, the great artists have all had a
profound insight into the principles underlying their
work. The teacher will fi.nd a firm hold of the principle
of imitation a much better preparation, in the long run,
for teaching the language arts than the painful turning of
the crank of routine or grinding in the mill of formal
precepts.
The self-assumed superiority of the so-called ' 'practical
man" over him whom he scornfulh- calls "the bookman,"
I06 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
consists largely in his freedom from all theories. The fun-
mental mistake involved in this assumption consists in
confounding theory with conjecture or assumption. A
theory is merely a view of certain facts, and if it is
bad it is because it does violence to the facts through
omission or otherwise. For one to proclaim himself with-
out theories is to proclaim himself without ideas. Theories
precede all actions that spring from purpose. A cook
cannot make a biscuit, or a blacksmith vShoe a horse,
without a theory; and if, perchance, the wrong theory
is followed the results are disastrous, as when the
smith attempts to shoe an ox as he would shoe a horse.
The fact is, that no man is without his theories. The late
Professor Bonamy Price, of Oxford, after observing that
"men at all times have occupied themselves with the
creation of wealth according to certain rules and ideas, ' '
very pertinently remarks:
No laborious employment can be extensively carried on with-
out the existence of some notions as to the right way of working,
and the most fitting methods for attaining the end desired. It is
a mistake, though a very common one, to suppose that practical
men, as they are called, are destitute of theory. The exact re-
verse of this statement is true. Practical men swarm with
theories, none more so. They abound in views, in ideas, in rules,
which they endow with the pompous authority of experience;
and when new principles are proposed, none are so quick as prac-
tical men to overwhelm the innovator with an array of the wisdom
which is to be found in prevalent practice.
The difference between men is not that some have
theories while others have none, but that they differ in
the .source and nature of their theories, as Professor Price
goes on to show.
The difference which .separates the man of science from the
man of practice docs not consist in the presence of general views
and ideas on one side, and their absence on the other. Both have
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. I07
views and ideas. The distinction lies in the method by which
those views have been reached, in the breadth and completeness
of the investigation pursued, in the rigorous questioning of facts,
and the careful digestion of the instruction they contain, in the
coordination and the logical cohesion of the truths established.*
The practice of medicine furnishes a good illustration.
The theories of the quack grow out of his own
experience and are limited by it; the theories of the
physician rest upon the research of the medical world.
There has been much difference of opinion as to method
and the study of method. Talleyrand declared methods
to be masters' masters, ' ' The true instruments of the
.sciences, they are to teachers themselves what teachers
are to their pupils. ' ' Pestalozzi, who never did anything
methodically, made the method everything, the teacher
nothing. He even affirmed that a text-book had no value
except .so far as it could be employed by a teacher without
instruction, as well as by one with instruction. M. Com-
payre quotes the proverb, "As is the master so is the
method, ' ' as expressing the true view.
Three questions present themselves to every intelligent
teacher. What? How? Why? The first comprehends
the method to be taught; the second the method to be
followed; the third the cause or the reason why this method
should be followed. These questions are closel}^ con-
nected, but they are here given in their natural order. The
what and the how must join hands in the best teaching.
In elementary schools, method is especiall}' important be-
cause pupils have small power to arrange or organize mat-
ter for themselves. In colleges and universities, learned
scholars may be found who are wasting their own time and
their pupils' time because they do not know how to teach.
It is never a good sign therefore to hear a teacher .sneer-
1 Principles of Curyency, Lecture I.
I08 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ing at methods. As Bacon said: "A lame man on a
straight road reaches his destination sooner than a courier
who misses his way. ' '
It is sometimes said that persons who have studied
teaching professionally often fail as teachers, while others
who have not so studied it often succeed. While we must
admit the facts to be as stated, we should be careful not to
draw from them wrong conclusions. Some persons lack
native aptitude to teach, just as some others lack aptitude
to practice medicine or the law. Besides, professional
study may run on wrong lines. Other persons are rich in
teaching capacity, and, supplementing their defective train-
ing by private study, they succeed. Moreover, nothing
can take the place of actual practice in the schoolroom.
Defined absolutely, there are three kinds of teachers.
The mechanical teacher knows nothing of the philosophy
of education; he has never studied either the human mind
or educational values; he takes everything on authority,
and is the slave of tradition, routine, and habit. The em-
pirical teacher has a .somewhat broader range; still he has
no grasp of educational .science or history, and is limited
by his own observation and experience. The philosophi-
cal teacher is guided by the broad facts and laws of edu-
cational science; he is more or le.ss versed in the theory
and history of education; but all his scientific and his-
torical knowledge has been vitalized and illuminated by
his own experience. All good teaching grows out of good
pedagogical ideas, from whatever source they may be de-
rived.
Still another topic to be treated is the order in
which the two leading courses in pedagog}' should be
taken. Which should come first, the .science or the art
of teaching ? Facts and principles or rules and methods ?
THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING. I09
Something can be said in favor of either mode of pro-
cedure.
It may be said that since principles are the causes of
methods, and since we cannot intelligently study modes
of doing things unless we understand the things to be
done, the natural order is from principles to methods.
And from the standpoint of pure theory this reasoning is
unanswerable. It would be hard to find a book that reverses
the order. On the other hand it may be said that general
ideas are deduced from practice; that art is older than sci-
ence; that it is a great advantage to one studying the science
of teaching to have had some previous practical knowledge
of it, and that therefore the practical course should come
before the theoretical. And this reasoning seems as con-
clusive as the other.
Both of these views, when stated in this exclusive way,
are too narrow. We will suppose that a student who has
had no experience whatever as a teacher first takes up
the course in theory. But this student has been a pupil in
the school; or at least has studied, and has had a teacher;
he has perhaps read or heard more or less about teaching,
so that he has a certain acquaintance with the practical
elements of the subject; or he has, at least, a daily exem-
plification of the rules of teaching before him in the work
he is now doing. And still further, the teacher whose
lectures on the theory of teaching he hears, or the author
whose books he reads, constantly enforces the principles
that he presents with illustrations drawn from the art of
teaching. Or, on the other hand, we will suppose that a stu-
dent first takes up the practical course. He has, however,
been a member of a school; at least belongs to one now,
and can hardly have failed to reflect somewhat on the
art that he has seen practiced; he has probably seen or
heard some discussions of educational doctrine; or, these
no STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
two suppositions failing, his teacher of method is con-
stantly enforcing the methods and rules that he recom-
mends with arguments drawn from the theory of teach-
ing.
It is therefore manifest that the theory and the art of
teaching cannot be absolutely separated ; that they over-
lap to some degree; and that the professor, in presenting
the one course, lays the emphasis on theory, while in the
other he la3\s it on practice. The fact is that the science
and the art of teaching, like many other sciences, have
grown up together. The all-important thing is that the
mutual dependence of theory and method shall be under-
stood, and that the student, if he begins with principles,
shall carry them out into practical rules of teaching; or,
if he begins with methods, shall thoroughly ground them
in educational doctrine. In the later stages the question
of order is more important than in the first .stages. Here
science should ordinarily precede art. In general, it may
be said, that the man who coined the traditional phrase,
"Theory and Practice," put the two elements in the
proper order. He would have made a mistake if he had
said " Practice and Theory."
Finall}-, what has been said as to the relation of the
courses in the science and the art of teaching involves a
moot question that should receive a word or two of com-
ment. This question relates to the value of the .so-called
model or practice work in connection with the study of
pedagogical theory and formal art.
It would be wa.ste of words to emphasize in general the
value of a practical acquaintance with the elements of an
art to a person who is engaged in its stud}^ and particu-
larly if he looks forward to its practice. No matter how
pain-staking the teacher may be — no matter how carefully
THE SCIENCE" AmT^TilE^ ARY OF TEACHING. Ill
he may illustrate his ideas and lessons — there is stilt a
certain abstractness or remoteness from reality, unless the
pupil has tried, or is permitted to try, his own hand, or
at least to observe the activities in question. This is, no
doubt, true of teaching as of the arts generally; and this
is the reason why model or practice departments are
found so commonly in normal schools. The admitted
evils that such schools often engender, as method-grinding
and self-complacency in the pupils, need not here be dwelt
upon; nor will the proper organization and control of such
schools be made the subject of remark. The only point
that needs to be made is this, that it is easy to exaggerate
the value of such practical elements as can be obtained in
a practice school under the ordinary conditions, and also
easy to expend unnecessary commiseration upon the
pedagogical pupil who does not enjoy such advantages.
As urged above, every student of teaching, no matter
whether he has taught or not, has been at .school; he has
been a pupil, has mingled with pupils, and is a pupil now;
he has had teachers and now has one or more. In these ways
he has accumulated a fund of practical knowledge that will
go a considerable distance, although by no means the
whole way, towards compensating him for his lack of
practical experience, past or present. INIore than this —
he is constantly surrounded by minds old and young; the
commerce of life compels him more or less to observe the
workings of these minds, and, what is still more to the
purpose, he has a mind himself which serves him as a
pedagogical laboratory in the same way that it serves him
as a psjxhological laboratory. He is by no means with-
out an illuminating knowledge of the matters with which
he is dealing. In fact, it is his own personal experience
of such matters that is to interpret for him through apper-
ception his observations of the minds of others. Ac-
112 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
cordingly, to call a practice school a "laboratory" in any
scientific sense of that term, or to say that children stand
to teaching pedagogy in the same relation that plants
stand to the teaching of botany, is to fall into a mis-
take that is now unhappily not uncommon. This mistake
is to overstrain an analogy, and to do violence to facts.
V.
CALVINISM" AND " AVERAGIJSTG " IN
EDUCATION/
HEN the call to this meeting reached me, I
was watching the ripples in the educational
journals caused by one of the boldest and
frankest educational utterances that I have
read for many a day, viz.: the short address made by
President Eliot, of Harvard University, at the annual
dinner of the Schoolmasters' Club of Boston, at the end
of October; and it occurred to me that I might render
you a small service by making it the subject of my own
discourse. President Eliot's abilities, position, policy,
and courage of his opinions always give importance to
what he saj'S on educational matters. Perhaps I have
not made the happiest selection of a theme; but 3'ou will
at least remember that in the commonwealth of American
education we have no tribunal, as a bench of judges, to
pass authoritatively on questions; no digests of opinions
or reports of cases that settle causes and prevent further
argument. On the contrary, causes are always open to
him who chooses to argue them. No doubt we make
foolish experiments in consequence; but these are not so
costly in the end as it would be to close causes to discus-
sion, and to settle questions by referring them to registered
wisdom. IVIoreover, the spirit of our large educational
1 An Address delivered before the Michigan State Teachers'
Association, Lansing, December, 1885.
113
114 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
gatherings is so catholic, and the range of abiUty, culture,
and experience represented in them so considerable, that
almost any topic, even if it touches education only in-
directly, is pretty sure to awaken interest if fairly well
presented.
The character of President Eliot's thinking on educa-
tion, and the policy that he has pursued at Harvard, are
so well understood that, in the beginning, I need only say
this in general — each distinct point in his address is an
outcropping of his favorite principles of election and com-
prehension. In discussing these points, I shall often pass
beyond the limits of what he has said, to consider related
questions. This is the paragraph in which he states
and combats what he calls the " Calvinistic theory" of
education:
At a meeting of teachers which I attended last week, a dis-
tinguished man burst out with a completely irrelevant statement
that nothing was good for training that was not hard. Now, I
want to say that the view which ascribes usefulness to mental
exercise only when it is repulsive and distasteful to the scholar,
needing a dead- lift of the will, is to my thinking the absolute
opposite of the truth with regard to mental training. No subject
is good for the training of a child four years old, or twelve, or
eighteen, in which the child or youth is not capable of achieving
something, capable even of decided success, and of winning that
enjoyment and satisfaction which come with achievement and
success. If we would divide subjects into profital)le and unprofit-
able we must, I believe, always put iu the profitable class those
subjects which the boy enjoys, and in the unprofitable clacs those
subjects for which he has no capacit}- and in pursuit of which he
gets no enjoyment. A subject is good for a child precisely in pro-
portion to his liking for it, or in other words to his taste and
capacity for it. ^
1 The extracts are made from an article by President Eliot in
The Popular Educator, November, 1885. This article and the
after-dinner speech were the same in substance.
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. II5
At the outset we should boldly mark one capital dis-
tinction that much current writing and talking on educa-
tional and kindred topics tend to confuse, viz. : Work is
not play. Ingenious essayists and lecturers sometimes
almost delude us into believing, at least for the moment,
that they are, or may be made, the same thing. They
both involve activity, work commonly more than play;
but they differ in the ends to which the activity is di-
rected and in the mental attitude of those who put it
forth. Work is an act or a series of acts in the line of
one's occupation or duty; play is resting from such acts.
The synonyms of the one word are "labor," "toil,"
"employment;" of the other, "pleasure," "amuse-
ment," "diversion." Work is girding up the powers
for serious effort; play is their relaxation, at least their
diversion from ordinary pursuits. Aristotle says there must
be business for the sake of leisure.* Both work and play
appear in a well-ordered life; both have disciplinary
value; both are related, though in quite different ways,
to education, but neither one can be made to answer the
purposes of the other.
In educating children the attempt has sometimes been
made to put work in the place of play, and sometimes
the attempt to put play in the place of work; and it
would be hard to say which has led to the greater failure.
The first attempt is the blunder of practical teachers only ;
the second is the blunder both of teachers and of writers
on educational theory. So sober a man as John Locke
not onl}^ proposed to combine instruction and sport, but
said nothing like work should be laid on children; the
great use and skill of a teacher in the case of small chil-
dren being, he affirmed, to make all as easy as he can.^
1 The Politics, vii. 14, 13. Translated by Jowett.
'See Thoughts Coticerning Education, \ 129, 148-155.
Il6 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
No doubt play comes before work in the order of de-
velopment; no doubt children learn many useful
things in their sports; no doubt the kindergarten has a
message for the primary teacher: but failure will in the
end attend every attempt to make the schoolroom a play-
room and the course of study a series of games. Even
in a school where the aim is to teach only through amuse-
ments, children divide the exercises set for them into two
classes, making work of some and plaj' of others.^ More-
over, if it were possible to clothe all work in the habit of
play, it would not answer the ends of complete discipline.
John Ma3mard did not think it play when, in smoke and
flame, he stood at his wheel until burnt to a crisp. The
sentry does not think it pla}' as, in cold and storm, he
paces his weary beat at midnight, keeping watch over the
sleeping army that has been given to him in trust. The
nurse who, in hospital or home, watches alone over her
feverish and delirious patient in the small hours, does not
think it play. Nor, again, doesthe pilot, the sentry, or the
nurse acquire his fortitude and devotion in spinning tops,
flying kites, or playing lawn-tennis. To be sure tops and
kites and tennis have their place, but the ability to gird
up the powers of the body and the mind for supreme ef-
forts, or even for common efforts, comes from a different
regimen. It was in a thorough school that St. Paul learned
to say, " For necessit)^ is laid upon me."
It may be replied that men sometimes find their play-
spells in severe exertion of a particular kind, as solving
problems in mathematics or physics. Such declarations
are often to be understood rhetorically. Still it must be
said that long application to given things may produce a
1 "The plays of children should not be systematized; they should
give the individual an opportunity for the distinct development of
faculty." — Radestock: Habit in Education,
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION, II7
second nature that speaks a different voice from the first
nature. Work may become a disease. L,ord Chief Justice
Ellenborough sat on the bench until he said the greatest
pleasure of his life was to hear Follett, then a young bar-
rister, argue a point of law. Again, great interest in a
subject, and great enthusia.sm in its pursuit, make it
attractive and pleasant. We read that "Jacob served
seven j^ears for Rachel and they seemed to him but a few
days, for the love he had to her." But plain, unso-
phisticated common sense holds work and play antithetical.
Even so devoted and resolute a lover as Jacob would have
preferred to win his bride in an easier way than serving
seven years as a herdsman.
Now, I do charge President Eliot with confusing work
and play. Such confusion is not necessarily involved in
an5'thing that he says; but so much such confusion exists,
that a bold delineation of the two kingdoms seemed a
proper prelude to taking up his real point.
The President tells us that studies should be made in-
teresting and eas3^; school, pleasant and attractive. This
is indeed very valuable advice. The unpleasant associa-
tions that still cling around the words "pedagogue" and
"master" are sur\'ivals of that period in educational
history when it was common to make school studies ex-
ceedingly hard, school discipline exceedingly severe, and
school life exceedingly forbidding. The Calvinistic theory
was then in its glory. Wliat is left of this regimen is now
passing away so rapidly that we need to give much more
attention to what is taking its place than we do to hasten-
ing its passage.
The child has a spontaneous nature that should be
harnessed to studies and to the whole work of life. Auto-
matic attention is that state of the mind in which its energy
is given to a thing from some native affinity or attraction;
Il8 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
volitional attention, that state in which its energy is given
by an act of choice. The development of volitional atten-
tion is one of the highest aims of discipline. Now, in
training the child the spontaneous attention must be
rallied to the support of the volitional, which is weak or
rather does not at first exist at all; but as time goes on the
volitional attention should grow and become more and more
independent of the spontaneous. Humor has been likened
to the lever by means of which we raise great weights
with a small force. lyOve and enthusiasm are also power-
ful motors. There is a large suggestion for the teacher
in the fact that a little boy who complains bitterly of the
weariness of walking will, when put astride of his grand-
father's cane, and told that it is a horse, scamper away
forgetful of his own bitter complaints. But somewhat of
life consists in walking when one is weary, and no boy is
fitted for life who cannot walk. The child should indeed
be led to the hard by the way of the easy; but the man
has no real training or character who cannot, on due
occasion, collect his powers to do a multitude of things
that he considers hard and disagreeable. The spontane-
ous powers keep us alive in infancy, and death comes
when they wholly fail us; but the highest end of educa-
tion is the fullest development of the judgment, the moral
sense, and the will. Hitch the spontaneous forces to
your wagon by all means; but if 3'ou have no other horses,
do not be surprised when you find that you drive an un-
certain team.
Drawing nearer to President Eliot, it is not true that
nothing is good for training unless it is hard; but it is
true that no training is complete which does not involve
much severe and vigorous labor. It is not true that mental
exercise is useful only when it is repulsive and distasteful,
" CALVINISM " AND " AVERAGING " IN EDUCATION. I T9
needing a dead-lift of the will; but it is true that a good
man}^ such lifts have to be made, and that the child must
be got ready for them by lifting. It is true that no sub-
ject is good for training in which the child is not
capable of achieving something, and of enjoying the
achievement; but it is not true that a subject is always
good for him in the long run in proportion to his present
capacit}^ and liking for it. Sometimes it is the case that
a child, or older pupil, who has small capacity for a sub-
ject, and finds little pleasure in its pursuit, develops,
through application and study, great capacity and pleas-
ure. After they have passed the rudiments of learning,
children should not be kept long at subjects for which,
under skillful teaching, they have a positive aversion;
nor, on the other hand, should the choice of their studies
be left to their caprices and whims. Things should not
be made hard that are by nature easy. There is no reason
in blocking the way to grammatical analysis with a cart-
load of nomenclature; or in weighing down the solution
of a simple example in arithmetic with a ponderous
formula. There is no excuse for retaining in text-books
the artificial distinctions and antiquated methods often
found in them. Arithmetics, for example, should not be
museums for hanging up on exhibition "applications"
that have disappeared from business, if indeed they were
ever known there. But there is a difference between real
life and training after all. In real life it is best to accom-
plish results with the smallest expenditure of power and in
the quickest way consistent with thoroughness; but in the
nursery and the school this is not always the case. The
child that can be carried quickly and easily across the
room, must learn to walk across it. Pupils must learn
algebraic methods by first solving problems that they can
more easily solve by arithmetical methods. Astronomers
I20 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
do not now, like Sir Isaac Newton, use the Greek
geometry in making their computations;^ but the math-
ematical student needs the discipline and logical forms of
the Greek geometry nevertheless. Moreover, we only
destroy the child morally by keeping him forever shut up
in a glass case; we should rather equip him with sound
principles, good habits, healthful appetites and desires,
pure affections, and right purposes, and then allow him
to be subjected to trial and testing. Further, trial and
testing are essential to the production of that ver}' equip-
ment. In a word, my W'hole contention is that the child
must be brought, progressively of course, to measure his
full powers with the labors and difficulties of life.
My reason for dwelling so long on this point is my con-
viction that nowhere along the long line of educational
discussion is there greater need of clear ideas. We forget
sometimes that the end of teaching is not to place certain
information in the mind of the pupil in the easiest way,
but rather to see that it is retained and assimilated, and
that the mind and character are strengthened by the
process. Partly in this forgetfulness, and partly in our
haste to hurry children along, lies the explanation of some
of the characteristic features of our schools. Books are
not taken away from children, but they are not given the
chance that they need to study them; while teachers, with
their "new educations," " natural methods," and " oral
1 "Speaking of the ancient geometry used by Newton, Dr. Whe-
well has said: 'The ponderous instrument of synthesis, so eflfective
in his hands, has never since been grasped by anj- one who could
use it for such purposes; and we gaze at it with admiring curi-
osity, as on some gigantic implement of war which stands idle
among the meniorials'of ancient days, and makes us wonder what
manner of man he was who could wield as a weapon what we can
hardly lift as a burden.' " — Draper: Intellectual Development oj
Europe, p. .'529.
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. 121
instruction," fill the children up with knowledge and at
the same time destroy mental character. Perhaps I should
remark that this is true onl}' in a relative sense. It is
quite generally asserted by high school teachers who have
had a lengthened experience, for example, that their pupils
are not the independent workers that they were fifteen or
twenty years ago. An old lad}' familiarly called "Grand-
ma ' ' was a patient in a hospital for the insane over which
a friend of mine presided as superintendent. She reso-
lutely refused to swallow food, and for two full years fed
herself only once in the natural way. She would place
the feeding pipe in her throat, and hold the bowl of milk or
broth in her hands, while the attendant threw the liquid
into her stomach with a pump. One day the doctor said:
"Grandma, don't you think it would be better if j'ou
would eat this food yourself?" " Oh, no," she answered,
"this is so much easier!" With all his mistakes in
educational matters, John Stuart Mill certainly understood
the great educational transition of his times when he wrote:
I do not believe that boys can be induced to apply themselves
with vigor, and what is so much more difficult, perseverance, to
dry and irksome studies, by the sole force of persuasion and soft
words. Much must be done, and much must be learned, by chil-
dren, for which rigid discipline, and known liability to punish-
ment, are indispensable as means. It is, no doubt, a very lauda-
ble effort in modern teaching, to render as much as possible of
what the young are required to learn, easy and interesting to them.
But when this principle is pushed to the length of not requiring
them to learn anything btU what has been made easy and interest-
ing, one of the chief objects of education is sacrificed. I rejoice
in the decline of the old brutal and tyrannical system of teach-
ing, which, however, did succeed in enforcing habits of applica-
tion; but the new, as it seems to me, is training up a race
of men who will be incapable of doing anything which is dis-
agreeable to them. '
* Autobiography, pp. 52-53.
122 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Mr. Mill even said: "A pupil from whom nothing is
ever demanded which he cannot do, never does all he can. ' '
In his second paragraph President Eliot gives his views
of another division of the subject:
This idea, I know, if carried out thoroughly, runs directl)'
counter to another very common idea — namely, that there is a
considerable number of subjects which everybody ought to know.
Now, the longer I live, the greater experience and wider observa-
tion I have, the more I settle to the conviction that there is no one
thing that a liberally educated man mtist know. In arithmetic,
for example, what stumbling blocks to children are least common
multiple and greatest common divisor; but we have all discovered
that common people have no use for either of these matters. And
so on throughout much of school education. It is not at all nec-
essary for everybody to know what air is made of, where the River
Charles rises, how the pump draws water, or the names of the
stars, or of any of the kings of Egypt. Not one of these things is
in the slightest degree essential to a liberal education. Hence the
notion that there is a certain number of subjects which everybody
should know, ought never to be allowed to interfere with or coun-
teract the general principle that the best training for every indi-
vidual lies in the pursuit of those subjects for which he is best fitted
and which he enjoys.
Unfortunatel}', this language is not as clear as could be
desired. In one sentence the President denies "that
there is a considerable number of subjects which every-
body ought to know," thereby apparently admitting by
implication that there are some such subjects; and in the
next sentence he affirms * ' that there is no one thing that
a liberally educated man viicst know." The denial and
the admission can be harmonized only by holding that
the terra " thing " applies to a single fact or object, and
is not the same as a " subject " or branch of knowledge.
But we are cut off from making this distinction by the
last .sentence, where what has been affirmed of " thing "
"CALVINISM" AND " AVERAGINT, " IN EDUCATION. 123
is affirmed of ' ' subject. ' ' Apparently, then, the Presi-
dent of Harvard desires us to understand him in the most
absolute sense ; there is no one thing or subject which a lib-
erally educated man need know. This is a surrender of
the three R's, unless we are to suppose that these are in-
struments or methods for learning things and subjects,
and not such themselves.
One's view of the whole paragraph will depend some-
what upon the sense that he attaches to the expression
" a liberally educated man," a topic that I set aside for
the present. No one can fairly claim that such a man
must know the elements of the air, the source of
Charles River, the action of a pump, the names of the
stars, or the names of the kings of Egypt. But the real
question is this: What is a liberally educated man's
relation to the great departments of knowledge to which
these facts belong — to chemistry, geography, ph3^sics,
astronom}', and history? Admit, for the sake of argument,
' ' that the best training for every individual lies in the
pursuit of those subjects for which he is best fitted,"
provided we can only find that out ; but since it is a fact
that special talents do not ordinarily declare themselves
at the age of ten or twelve years, how are we going to
make that discovery ? The boy of those ages is quite
apt to have a stock of whims and notions of his own;
moreover, what he enjoys depends largely upon his
associations and habits; and we cannot relegate his studies
to the court of notion and enjoyment.
So much for Calvinism. Let us now hear the President
on averaging and uniformit)'.
There is another principle which we should bear in mind,
though it runs counter to generally accepted ideas, viz: That
uniformity in intellectual training is never to be regarded as an
124 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
advantage, but as an evil from which we cannot completely
escape. We have lately heard a great deal about " keeping step "
as a valuable part of public-school training; but I do not know a
more unfortunate figure to use with regard to education. Even
in military movements, if troops want to get anywhere they
never keep step. A large school is almost necessarily a kind of
averaging machine. But we should always bear in mind that
though this averaging may be in some measure necessary, it is a
necessarj'evil. All should admit that it would be an ineflFable loss
to mankind if the few great men were averaged with the millions
of common people, — if by the averaging process the world had
lost such men as Faraday and Agassiz, Hamilton and Webster,
Gladstone and Cavour. But do we equally well understand that
when ten bright, promising children are averaged with ninety
slow, inert, ordinary children, a very serious loss is inflicted, not
only upon those ten, but upon the community in which the one
hundred children are to grow up ? There is a serious and prob-
ably an irreparable loss caused by the averaging of the ten with
the ninety children. Thererore I say that uniformity in education
all along the line is an evil which we should always be endeavor-
ing to counteract, by picking out the brighter and better children,
and helping them on by every means in our power.
No other paragraph in the address is so exasperating
to pubUc-school teachers as this one, and no other is so
deserving of their attention, Pittting aside our resent-
ment at being talked to in this manner, we should candidh'
inquire what there is in this matter of uniformity' and
averaging.
In a sense a large public school is "a kind of averaging
machine. ' ' But the world is full of such machines, and
we need not be over-afraid of them. A national literature,
no matter how rich and varied, is an averaging machine.
It tends to produce a certain mental homogeneit}', a certain
type of culture that is more or less distinct from all other
cultures. The American is not reared on the literature
of Italy or Persia, and would not be an American if he
were. The Christian Church, in the broadest historical
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. 1 25
sense, is an averaging machine; and so, in a much closer
sense, are the state churches of Europe and the Christian
denominations of America. One does not need to be a
theologian to trace the line of delimitation separating the
Christian Church from all other churches, as the Jewish,
the Mohammedan, or the Buddhist. The Christian
denominations rest upon certain doctrinal uniformities
and certain spiritual cultures, which uniformities and
cultures they tend powerfully to perpetuate. Non-
conformity is the loose-fitting name of a multitude of
British sects; but it nevertheless marks off some very
definite beliefs or non-beliefs which those sects hold in
common. Colleges and universities are averaging
machines; their function being to provide society with
liberally educated men, who have something in common
even when the name is held in a sense loose enough to please
President Eliot. Republican government and absolute
monarchy are averaging machines, each tending to pro-
duce its own tj^pe of citizen or subject. Nay, civil society
itself, the very civilization of which we boast, is an
averaging machine; it is plainly divided from barbarous
or savage society, and tends to certain uniform results.
Certainly in this broad sense, large public schools, and
small public schools, and schools of all kinds are averag-
ing machines. Moreover, they should be such ma-
chines. The name may offend us by its suggestion
of mechanical rather than vital or organic processes,
but we need not hesitate to admit the fact. Hence
if President Eliot speaks absolutely when he says
that uniformity in intellectual training is never an
advantage, and that averaging is a necessary evil, I can-
not agree with him. Probably, however, he does not
speak in that way. So far, then, there is no room for
a quarrel.
126 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
But this is neither the kind of averaging nor the kind
of iiniforniit}'- that President Eliot means. He has in his
mind a process that ignores the individuality of children,
kills originalit}^, rounding off the sharp knobs of genius
and character, and thereby accomplishes two things —
turning out a type of tamely uniform men and women,
and losing to the world its Faradays and Agassizes, its
Hamiltons and vVebsters, its Gladstones and Cavours. I
do not share the fear that there is great danger of the
potential great men of the future being spoiled in this
way, but there is such a thing as over-averaging. Mr.
Bagehot said civilization consists of two elements, custom
and change, legality and progress. ' ' I^aw, rigid, defi-
nite, concise law, is the primary want of early mankind."
This is the "cake of custom," or "the preser\'ative
habit," with which civil society everywhere begins.
Then come progress and variety; "getting out of a
fixed law," " breaking the cake of custom," "breaking
through the preservative habit and reaching something
better. ' ' ^ Both theory and historj^ prove that the second
of these .steps is much the more difficult of the two. Asia
is full of arrested civilizations. Witness China, which
once had a promising civilization, but which for thou-
sands of 3-ears has stood vStill, wholly unable to break the
tough cake of custom that antiquity baked. The aver-
aging machine has there done its perfect work. We talk
of the "average American," having in mind a certain
vague type of man, and not venturing to name as such
any individual in the throng who jostle us on the street;
but in Pekin, if I understand the matter rightly, you can
safely point to almost any passer-by with the words,
"That is the average Chinaman." Once more, there
may be a valuable suggestion in the fact that the Chinese
* Physics and Politics, jip. 2\, 27, 53.
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. 127
averaging machine is in the hands of the schoolmaster;
in no other country in the world have the teacher, the
school, and literary studies been so powerful in moulding
the national character and life.
It is this excess of uniformity — this over-averaging— that
President Eliot complains of, and that we all need to watch
with fear and trembling. There is a certain danger of its
appearance in schools of all kinds; other things being equal,
more danger in large -schools than in small ones, and in
systems of schools than in single schools. Many teachers
do over-emphasize— and the majority of teachers are more
or less likely to over-emphasize — keeping step. To com-
pare the public schools with other schools might be thought
invidious, and to speak in quantitative terms of any school
is impossible; but I am free to say, for one, that President
Eliot has pointed out one spot where public-school men
need to keep the danger signal all the time flying.
Men offer to our observation a great variety of talents
and tastes. In his late address at Johns Hopkins Univer-
sity, Archdeacon Farrar said:
The minds of men differ radically. Some men, like my friend
the late Dean Stanley, are interested in the nature and thought of
men; others breathe most freely in the regions of the abstract.
Charles Darwin said that at school he had learned nothing, with
the exception of that which he had taught himself by private ex-
periments in chemistry; and when the head master discovered
him, instead of encouraging him, he reproached him before all
the form with being apocco atr rente, which he thought a dread-
ful name. St. Bernard is so dead to outer impressions that he
travels all day along Lake Geneva, and then asks where the lake
is; while Linnaeus is so sensitive to the beauties of nature that,
when he beholds a promontory standing boldly forth and teeming
with beauty, he cannot help falling upon his knees and thanking
God for such a world.
What educational problems these examples suggest!
But every man of reading can readily parallel them, even
128 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
if he cannot state them in as choice language. Sir Walter
Scott took small interest in the school studies, and was
looked upon with little favor by the masters; but he had a
passion for the antiquities, history, and minstrelsy of Scot-
land, and finally became the great chivalric poet and his-
torical romancer of the century. You remember the stories
of Darwin and Sir Humphrey Davy. But a much com-
moner case is such as this: A boy who does nothing in
school but make trouble has a taste for drawing and
mechanical contrivance; he spends the time that the
teacher wants him to bestow on geography and grammar
in making pictures and toy machinery, and at last blos-
soms out, to the surprise of everybody, an architect or
an inventor. But the variety of character is greater than
the variety of intellect. The sensibility and the will pre-
sent to the educator more problems and more difficult
ones than the understanding. Children's minds have
been compared to combination locks; if j'ou have the
" combination," you can enter at once; if you have not,
no pounding on the door will give )'ou entrance. Some-
times the combination is simple and easy, and then again
it is complex and difficult.
Now, our problem is to adapt the schools to this variety
of mind and character. Averaging of some sort begins at
once. One hard thing to manage is the course of study;
the work assigned in the grades must not be measured by
the abilit)^ of the brightest, nor again of the dullest,
scholars. The problem confronts us again in the exami-
nations and promotions. Then the teacher question
brings it up in a still more trying form. Some teachers
can rise and fall through two or three octaves, some
through one octave, some are confined to a single note.
In government and moral control it is even worse, since
the average teacher has less power to discipline and mould
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. 1 29
character than she has to instruct. One teacher reports a
pupil stubborn; another says he is perfectly manageable.
One teacher soothes a boy who is bristling like the fretful
porcupine ; another ruffles him and makes him more fret-
ful. In some schools you will always find more or less
irritation and friction; troublesome boys who pass into
other schools disappear from sight like icebergs drifting
towards the torrid zone. We have difficulty in account-
ing for these differences in teachers. Even the most skill-
ful analysts of character fail us. They mention " good
sense," "sympathy," and several other common quali-
ties, and then pass off into vagueness — "native tact,"
"subtle influence," and "indefinable quality." Most
unfortunately, where the teacher should be fullest of re-
sources the most vicious averaging is done. Again,
women are more skillful than men in finding the mind
and heart combinations of small children, and this is why
they make the best primary teachers.
I am familiar with the manner in which the regulation
schoolmaster puts aside such examples as those just pre-
sented. He says they are "exceptional," and declares,
what is true enough as a rule, that the boys and girls who
do well in school do well in other places; but the question
arises whether the child that cannot go at the common
pace, but has a pace of his own — the boy who is separate
and apart, and is therefore called "queer," or "odd,"
or "strange" — receives the attention that is his due.
Should such a boy as Walter Scott, or Charles Darwin,
or Humphrey Davy appear in the schools of Detroit,
Chicago, or Cleveland, would he find any room, or would
he be driven out by the established regimen ? I shall
not answer my own question, but will say that the schools
sometimes seem to present a case of arrested develop-
ment. The graded-school movement has done great
130 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
things for education; it has brought S3'stem and order out
of chaos; it has created custom and legality, but the
question of individual adaptation and progress has not
been fully solved. The cake of custom has been baked,
but not fully broken. This is my excuse for offering
some remarks on this point of a more definitely practical
character.
1 . President Eliot does not exaggerate the value to the
world of its great men; nor is his solicitude for the ten
brightest children in a hundred misplaced. He was
right when he wTote in "The Atlantic Monthly" ten
3'ears ago:
We Americans are so used to weighing multitudes and being
ruled by majorities that we are apt to underrate the potential
influence of individuals. Yet we know that Agassiz's word about
a fossil fish justly outweighed the opinion of the whole human
race besides; that Von Moltke is worth great armies to German}';
that a few pages of poetry about slavery and freedom by Longfel-
low, Lowell, and Whittier have had the profouudest effect upon
the public fortunes of this country during the past thirty years;
that the religions of the world have not been the combined work
of multitudes, but have been accepted from individuals. We
must not be led by our averages and our majorities to forget that
one life maybe more precious than other millions; that one heroic
character, one splendid genius, may well be worth more to hu-
manity than multitudes of common men.*
But it does not seem possible to make very full provi
sion for the highest abilities in schools of any kind. Tht
fact is, the men who have them move in an orbit, and
with an impetus, of their own. In discussing the scale
of merit among men who obtain mathematical honors at
the University of Cambridge, Mr. Galton speaks of the
enormous differences of power that the examinations reveal.
»Junc, 1875, p. 713.
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IX EDUCATIDX. 131
One year the senior wrangler obtained 9,422 marks, while
the man who stood at the bottom of the same honor list
obtained only 309. Galton states the ratio of abilities as
30 or 32 to 1; that is, the senior wrangler is able to
grapple with subjects thirty or thirty-two times as diffi-
cult as the man who stands lowest on the list. And
yet he insists that the examinations do not give the best
men a fair chance, owing to the large amount of time that
is taken up in the mechanical labor of writing.^
Now, how are these extraordinary men to be educated?
I can see but one possible answer — they must, for the
most part, get what they need in extra-school work.
What they need is great teachers who can guide them in
their studies. This is w^hat Dr. Brunnow did for Watson
at Ann Arbor. It is not practicable to bring the bright-
est pupils in a public-school grade together in classes b>'
themselves; the different classes of pupils within the
grade must, for the time, work together. But when we
succeed in gearing the public library to the public school ,
the best pupils can pour their surplus power into litera-
ture. It may be replied that the best pupils are apt to be
the nervous and precocious ones, who should not be
crowded, which is true in a measure; but there are other
pupils of superior ability and strength who can do more
than the allotted measure of work.
2. A good teacher can do a great deal of this differ-
ential work within the school. Here, I fear, teachers do
not always understand their business. At the beginning
of a term a class is graded, and the teacher, perhaps,
thinks that she should keep it graded. Not at all; it is
her duty to ungrade the school as quickly and thoroughly
as possible. Even classes may be very easy to handle,
but they indicate average teaching. English fox-hunters
^Hereditary Genius, p. 20.
132 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
think it a great merit in a pack of hounds to run in so
close a body that a blanket will cover thera, but schools
are not, or at least should not be, ' 'packs of children. ' ' By
ungrading a .school I do not mean that the bright children
are always to be promoted out of the class, though that is
sometimes best: I rather mean that extra work may be
furnished in school or out of school to those who are able
and anxious to do it. This would, in reality, be putting
two or three courses in the one course: imperia in im-
perio.
3. To put elective studies in lower-grade schools I
think impracticable. The studies of those grades are
fundamental in character as well as in name, and the
children, with the exceptions soon to be made, must be
held to them. But you will often find boys who have no
taste and no ability for grammar, for example, but are
good readers, good arithmeticians, good geographers, and
are full of general information into the bargain. To re-
fuse promotion to such a boy, particularly if his sta}'' in
school will be short, is an injustice. The same is true of
the girl who succeeds in everything but arithmetic. But
I shall be told that there are indolent pupils, and pupils
who have dislikes for particular studies, and that these
will also ask for promotion when they fail. This difficulty
is not an imaginar}^ one; but I reply that I would pro-
mote none on this score who have not also been successful
in nearly all the studies. Moreover, the refusal to do
justice to one class of pupils because another and a differ-
ent class will make trouble, while it must sometimes be
done perhaps, is most emphatically a vicious averaging
process. Again, there are pupils who never master the
work of any grade beyond the fourth or fifth; they absorb
.so much of a subject and never absorb any more; and,
when the point of saturation is reached, they should be
"CALVINISM" AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION. 1 33
moved along. Of course such pupils cannot be carried
through the schools and graduated; fortunately for the
management, however, they generally disappear before
graduation day comes. Perhaps I shall be asked, "How
much would you yield at these various points?" That
question cannot be answered in quantitative terms. What
I mean is, I would individualize the cases and deal with
them as they arise.
But one side of uniformity and averaging President
Eliot did not touch on. It was left to Professor Harris,
of Andover, at that famous dinner, to discuss the subject
of order. He is reported as having said: " Order is not
heaven's first law; order is the law of a small mind — of an
imitative, mechanical mind. Order, as a law, reminds
one of a Dutch garden, of rooms in a hotel with furniture
arranged exactl)- alike. There is a vast distance between
order and disorder where variety may appear. ' ' We need
not weigh these words one by one, or as a whole; but it is
desirable to think the important subject ol order out to
the end.
The common saying that order is not an end but a
means is perfectly true. The same may be said of educa-
tion itself, though in a different sense. Order is proxi-
mate to education, education to life. A certain kind and
amount of order is essential to intellectual education ; there
must be attention and application to the objects of study.
Migratory tribes never become highly civilized; bodies of
men must, as a whole, become fixed and permanent be-
fore they can really enter on the march of mental and
moral progress. A similar condition attends the educa-
tion of the individual pupil. Then order has an important
moral bearing. Regularity, punctuality, industry, and
obedience, all requiring much self-control, are prominent
134
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
features of public schools as now organized and conducted;
and how important they are as moral virtues, no reading
and thinking man has an excuse for not understanding,
since Dr. W. T. Harris gave them this rank and dignity,
first in one of his St. Louis reports, and afterwards in a
paper read to the National Council of Education in 1883.^
And this is one side of the case as fully as I need to pre-
sent it; now for the per contra.
Nothing in school management is easier than to o\-erdo
order. Particularly is this true in the cases of small
children of American ancestry, with a tendency to ner-
vousness. Every man of sense and observation will admit
this the moment he reflects on their restless manner, their
animal .spirits, and their small power of ph3-sical self-
control.- Such children must have frequent physical ex-
ercises while the school hours are passing; also a good
deal of libert}^ when engaged in work at their seats. They
cannot be "trussed" like so man}- chickens. The old-
fashioned tests of school excellence, "you can hear a pin
fall," or "a watch tick," are most unnatural, absurd, and
tyrannical: human nature rebels against such repression.
Reasonable order in the school-room, for the most part,
must be secured indirectly; it must come as the result of
keen interest in the work, and close application to it.
What is sometimes called "good order" does not always
imply either interest in studies or a good school, since it
* The National Council of Education, 18S3.
^Dr. G. .Stanley Hall gives this bit of descri2:)tiou: "I have
seen a file of one hundred and fifty small German boys just as they
marched out of the school house at noon, almost unbroken a
quarter of a mile awa)'; and I observed several hundred little girls
at the Victoria School in Berlin, during an outdoor recess, and did
not see one run a step or do anything a lady ought not to have
done, although they were allowed perfect freedom." — Aspt;cts of
German Culture, p. 30G.
CALVIxMSM " AND "AVERAGING" IN EDUCATION.
135
may be secured bj^ extreme repression; but interest and
application are pretty certain to lead to good order. In
other words, order should be largely spontaneous. In the
long run, that teacher will best succeed in securing it who
says little about it. Even grown persons who are con-
sciously trying to keep still find it difficult to do so. How
hard many find it to sit for a photograph ! The boy whose
business is to be quiet is likely to make a great deal of
noise while about it. Moreover, a positive direction
or order to keep still, given to anj^ assemblage, tends
to provoke nervous and muscular movements. Great
audiences are as still as death, not when the orator is
descanting on order and stillness, but when he loses him-
self and them in his subject. Hence attempts to secure
order should not be thrust into the faces of children.
Wendell Phillips tells an anecdote of a judge who
said to the crier of the court, " Mr. Crier, you are
the noisiest man in court, with your everlasting shout of
'silence !' " So it is in some schools; the teacher with her
sharp cries, "attention!" "position!" causes, directly
and indirectly, more nervousness and confusion than all
the scholars put together. I have heard children say, " I
cannot keep still in that school." But while the order of
school should be mostly spontaneous, and therefore
unconscious, I know full well that often the teacher must
take a pupil, and even a school, in hand, and bring about
the desired result by direct means.
But there is another view of the subject, second to no
other in importance. A good teacher must possess two
great qualities; the power to govern or manage, and the
power to instruct and develop the child. That the second
of these is the greater power, is as clear as that the first is
often more highly valued. Unfortunately, there are teach-
136 STUDIES IX EDUCATION'.
ers of good abilities, excellent character, fine education,
apt to teach, and of admirable influence on mind and
heart, who are not gifted as managers. Some are even
weak. In time they may establish their influence in the
school, but the}' cannot walk into the room and command
order with a nod or a wave of the hand. Still more un-
fortunately, there are other teachers who have large power
to manage, but are very poor and weak in intellectual
and moral qualities. These teachers, often coarse and
ruling by mere animal dominanc}', can nod and wave
children into enforced subjection, but they succeed indif-
ferently in the real ends for which the .school exists. 1
am fully aware that a certain amount of control is essen-
tial to good instruction, and that a teacher who cannot
govern, no matter how admirable a person she may be, is
a failure; but it has often seemed to me unfortunate that,
nine times in ten, the visitor, or superintendent on visit-
ing a school, especially if the teacher be a new one, is first
struck by the order and afterwards by the instruction.
Then five or ten minutes often suffices the experienced
observer to tell whether a school is managed or not, while
repeated visits, some of them protracted ones, are neces-
sary to ascertain the character of the instruction along all
the lines of school work. Particularly is this true in the
upper grades, where the work is widely differentiated.
These theoretical views, together with some observation,
lead me to two conclusions which, however, are but one
at root: That the superintendent, the schoolboard, and
even the whole community, are pretty certain to over-
value the managing teacher as compared with the
developing teacher; and that, generally, too much atten-
tion is given to order as compared with instruction.
And still a teacher must govern to a degree or she cannot
develop.
" CALVINISM " AND " AVERAGING " IN EDUCATION. 1 37
This group of topics, which has detained us so long,
may be dismissed with these additional remarks: That
the public school system of a large cit}^ with its grades,
courses of study, teachers, supervisors, etc., is necessarily
complicated, and more or less machine-like; that it may
easily be made a repressive, oppressive, and deadening
machine; and that educational bigots and sciolists will be
sure to prostitute it to these ends. No other schools call
for more intelligent teachers and supervision. It was once
said of a great national church that abounded in mechani-
cal elements: "When once this vast organization, with
its minuteness of ritual, ceased to be constantly \'ivified
b}^ the breath of prophesy often passing over it, like a
divine whirlwind, to shake its entire fabric, its tendency
was to petrify into immobility. ' ' Something like this will
happen to the public schools almost the verj" hour that
they cease to feel the vivifying breath of public discussion.
One thing more and I am done. More than anything
else in the world, education is a matter of men and women.
No matter what school topic we raise, it soon passes into
the concrete. Courses of study and methods of instruc-
tion lead quickly up to the question, "Who are to do the
teaching and supervising?" All contemplated reforms
resolve themselves into the teacher-question. Like other
instruments of vast power, the public-school system
may be greatly abused; and whether it is or not, will
depend, in the first place, mainly on the intelligence,
education, and devotion of teachers and supervisors. To
aid in solving this problem, such associations as yours
exist and such meetings as the present one are held. I
can leave with you no larger hope than this — that in your
efforts to solve the problem you may meet your fullest
expectations.
VI
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR
EDUCATION/
jHE FORUM for December, 1892, contained
one of those vigorous articles that President
Eliot, of Harvard University, occasionally
contributes to current educational literature.
Beginning with the averment that there is serious and
general disappointment at the results of popular education
up to this date, although many countries have now sj^stem-
atically provided such education for all children for more
than two generations at great cost and with a good deal
of enthusiasm, he proceeds to sum up with a strong
hand the current criticisms of universal education as a
cure for ancient wrongs and evils. The following sum-
mary will give a fair view of the scope and content of this
arraignment :
(1) General education does not promote general con-
tentment, and so fails to secure public happiness. (2)
People in general are hardly more reasonable in the con-
duct of life than they were before free schools, popular
colleges, and the cheap printing press existed, as is shown
by the currency of obscene books and pictures and low
novels, by the number and success of quacks and impos-
tors, by the general acceptance of popular sophisms and
fallacies, and by the cyclones of popular folly that beat
upon the ship of state. (3) Lawless violence breaks out
• A paper read before the Principals' Association of the city of
Chicago, February, 1893.
138
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 39
just as it did before there were common schools; the Jews
are still ostracized in German}- and in New York, and are
robbed and driven into exile in Russia. (4) New tyran-
nies are constantly arising, the tyrant being some-
times a majority of voters, sometimes a combina-
tion of owners, contractors, or workmen, sometimes
the walking delegate. Popular elections are conducted
in an irrational manner, votes are still purchasable,
and the average voter is an intense partisan. (5)
Society does not tend toward a greater equality of con-
ditions; the distinctions between rich and poor are
intensified, and education does not procure for the wage-
earner exemption from exhausting toil. (6) The rich
man refuses to accept responsibility with his wealth ; he
gives or withholds employment as he pleases, and, irre-
spective of education, is just as selfish and luxurious in
his habits as was his predecessor in former centuries
who could not write his name. (7) War is more destruc-
tive than ever; the nineteenth century is the bloodiest of
all the centuries; the world has never before seen such
man-slaying machines as are the great armies that Europe
is now supporting, while the American Republic is
expending more money on pensions than France or
Germany expends on her army. (^) The conditions of
employment have not been made more humane and com-
fortable; almost all services and industries are organized
on the brutal principle of the dismissal of the employed
by the emploj-er on the briefest notice, and the tenure of
employment during efficiency and good behavior is the
privilege of an insignificant minority of well-to-do people.
A moment's reflection suffices to show that this form-
idable indictment includes much more than the existin.<4
education,— that it is, in fact, an indictment of what we
140 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
familiarly call modern progress. President Eliot does
not endorse all the counts that have been enumerated; he
spreads them over four pages of " The Forum, "and then
tells us that they exaggerate existing evils and leave out
of sight great improvements in social conditions which
the last two generations have seen. But, unfortu-
nately, he leaves us in doubt as to the extent of such
exaggeration. Still, he devotes a page or more to
stating some of the beneficent changes that have been
effected in the social economy in the last seventy
3'ears. He mentions the mitigation of human misieries
resulting from the reformation of penal codes and
prisons, the institution of reformatories and hospitals,
and the abolition of pirac)^ and slavery. He says that sav-
ings' banks and other similar institutions have promoted
habits of industrj^ and frugality- ; that the condition of
most laboring classes in societ}" has been ameliorated in
respect to earnings, hours of labor, lodgings, food, and
clothing, while means of education for their children have
been multiplied and family and school discipline have
been mitigated, and all sorts of abuses and cruelties have
been checked. Further, almost all business is conducted
nowadays on faith, which is based on the inherent moral
qualities of the race that general education reinforces and
fortifies; freedom of intercourse has been amazingly
developed; progress has been made toward a genuine
iniity of spirit among classes and peoples ; and while war
has not ceased, soldiers are more intelligent than they once
were. The industries and trades also require more intel-
ligence in work people than heretofore. He adds that
while popular education has not effected all these changes,
it has contributed to them all.
How far he considers the .social improvements and
ameliorations that he eninnerates a set-off to the criticisms
PRESIDENT ELIOT OX POPULAR EDUCATION. 141
on the schools that he marshals, President Eliot does not
say. While it is manifestly impossible, in such a case,
to speak in quantitative terms, it must be clear to every
reflecting mind that they are a set-off to a very great
extent. For example, the particular facts stated in
regard to the improved condition of work people largely
neutralize the general statements previously made about
the relations of capital and labor and of the extremes
of society. And here it is pertinent to say that if
President Eliot had been content to submit a summary of
the criticisms on the current education that he thinks
true and important, with reasons for his opinions, instead
of resorting to the cumbrous method of the courts of law —
first filing an indictment and then a partial answer — he
would have rendered the cause which he wishes to pro-
mote a much more valuable service, especially as he dis-
misses the case without any summing-up whatever. Had
he done this, he would have found his task more difficult.
He would have found it necessary carefullj' to consider
what popular education may justly be expected to accom-
plish for societ}', — a phase of the general subject that, at
the present time, is second in importance to no other
phase that can be mentioned. That a multitude of people,
if not indeed a large majority, entertain exaggerated ideas
of the function, and so of the usefulness, of popular edu-
cation, he appears to perceive; for he says, in the wisest
paragraph of his whole article, that it is somewhat com-
forting, while brooding over the educational failure, to
recall that society had already had similar disappoint-
ments, accompanying the remark with two well-chosen
examples. Unity of religious belief, instead of bringing
the ideal social state that many persons expected it to
bring, brought rather persecutions and desolating wars
of religion; while popular government has come far short
142 STUDIES IN EDUCATION'.
of realizing the almost infinite possibilities that demo-
cratic optimists believed it contained at the time when
modern society was first entering into the enchanted land
of I,iberty, Equality, and Fraternity. Than these, he could
not have drawn more impressive lessons pertinent to the
question from the records of social experience; they
deserve more emphasis than he gives them; for, if the
Christian Church and democratic government are to be
measured by the high standards that many enthusiastic
.souls have set up for them, they are more di.sheartening
failures than popular education, even when it is treated
in the same manner. The New Testament teaches that
the Christian religion came down from above, and that it
will thoroughly furnish men unto all good works; and
nothing is easier for a man who accepts this view than to
conclude that its general introduction into the world
would certainly usher in the millennium, provided only
he overlooks the fact stated by St. Paul : ' ' For we have
this treasure in earthen vessels. ' ' Then put the govern-
ment of the City of New York or of the City of Chicago
alongside of what the democratic prophets were saying
about democracy a century ago. The democratic theory is
that government is proximate to all the great interests of
human life; that men generally, or at least a great majority
of men, will actively bestir themselves to secure good gov-
ernment whenever they can make their power felt, and
that, therefore, nothing is wanting to secure such govern-
ment but the creation of the required political conditions.
Well, in the United States we have now been trying the
experiment for more than a hundred years under the most
favorable conditions that ever existed; and we have been
compelled to learn, as Dr. Eliot puts it, that "universal
suffrage is not a panacea for social ills, but simply the
most expedient way to enlist the interest and support of
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 43
US all in the government of us all." That is, we have
learned that democratic government is not a perpetual
motion. Democracy is the doctrine of averages applied
to public affairs; and there is no reason to expect that, in
the long run, it will produce government that is superior
to the average intelligence or morality of the nation. The
belief of the most advanced peoples now is, that elemen-
tary instruction should be made universal, irrespective of
sex, class, or condition, and that the means of secondary
and higher education should also be liberally furnished ;
some of these peoples have now been acting on this theory
for a long time; and, considering the part that knowledge
and intellectual power are commonly supposed to play in
the economy of human life, it was natural that most men
should antecendently think that the final result would be
a social transformation. Although we have not yet reached
the goal of universal education, we have gone far enough
towards it to see that it will not prove a panacea for social
ills, but that it is simply the most effective means yet
devised for diffusing intelligence, and so for partially free-
ing men and society from the dominion of folly, ignorance,
and passion, thus making life less bestial and more human
than it was before. It was never reasonable to expect
that it would cure all our political sicknesses and correct
all our social disorders.
The panacea tendency in human nature, arising from
the force of conservative habit, is very strong. "Each
age," says Mr. Mackenzie Wallace, "has its peculiar so-
cial and political panaceas. One generation puts its trust
in religion, another in philanthropy, a third in written con-
stitutions, a fourth in universal suffrage, a fifth in popular
education. In the Epoch of the Restoration, as it is called,
the favorite panacea was secret political association."'
* Russia, p. 393.
144 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
The public school is the panacea in which we Amer-
icans have been putting our trust, and we are now
waking up to the fact that it is not doing the work that
we have confidently expected it to do. This is a very
painful, but also a very important revelation, and it is very
desirable that it shall soon be followed by the further dis-
covery that it can never be made to do all that work. So-
ciety, having produced at great cost a system of public in-
struction, seems determined to thrust upon it burdens it can-
not carry. Most of our Catholic brethren, for example, will
not use the public school, save as a dernier resort, because
it does not teach dogmatic religion: as though such a
thing were possible in a democratic country! Some peo-
ple blame the school because it does not make the pupils,
or at least most of them, moral: as though the school could
take the place of the family and the church ! Some per-
sons say the school does not fit pupils for practical life,
and President Eliot charges that it does not equip them
for dealing with the economical and financial problems
that vex the countrj' . And yet on this point he himself
once wrote: " Many persons hold that the Republic can be
saved by primary education, but the most despotic gov-
ernment in the world — that of Germany — is that where
primary education is most widespread." He seems,
however, immediately to have forgotten Germany, for he
proceeds to say: "Despots can reconcile themselves to
universal primary education, but cannot overcome the in-
fluence of universal education of a higher type. Well
conducted superior education — the training in knowledge,
in writing, and speaking, of the natural leaders of the
people — is the need of the countr3^"
It is worth observing that even men of cultivation tend
to invest certain human institutions with very exalted at-
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 45
tributes. The church, the government, and the schools
of learning are spoken of as though they were something
superior to general society; something partially or wholly
separate and apart from it; and as though they should,
therefore, be free, in large measure, from the weaknesses
and vices that belong to the mass of mankind. A moment' s
reflection should teach men of even average education that
clothing human organizations of aiy kind with a highly
superior intelligence, wisdom, and skill when, by reason of
numbers, they are in close touch with the great bod_\- of
society, is arrant folly. For brief periods governments have
sometimes risen far above the level of the humanity in the
midst of which they have existed, as in the persons of
Charlemagne and Alfred, but these are the exceptions
that prove the rule. Of all the uplifting powers that have
ever acted upon the course of civilization, the most benefi-
cent have been the mind and the heart of Jesus of Naza-
reth; for almost nineteen centuries they have been in-
structing and inspiring the most progressive races of men;
and yet even the tyro in historical studies knows that from
the moment when the Christian Church first embraced a
large section of human society to this day, it has responded
more or less completely to the evil influences and tenden-
cies of both time and country. What an interval there is
between the barbaric church of Abyssinia and the purest
forms of American Christianity !
Probably it will be said that these analogies do not hold
in the case of elementary schools. The teacher, we
are told, works upon plastic material; he is the potter,
the child the clay, and so he is answerable for the
vessel, whether it be one of honor or of dishonor. Even
philosophers, to express their estimate of the educa-
tional function, have used language that cannot be en-
dorsed.
146 ■ STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
Leibnitz. — "Entrust me with education, and in less
than a century I will change the face of Europe."
Descartes. — "Sound understanding is the most widely
diffused thing in all the world, and all differences be-
tween mind and mind spring from the fact that we con-
duct our thoughts over different routes. ' '
Locke. — " Out of one hundred men, more than ninety
are good or bad, u.seful or harmful to societ)-, owing to
the education they have received."
Helvetius. — "All men are born equal and with equal
faculties, and education alone produces a difference be-
tween them." '
It is not proposed to traverse these opinions, except to
.state two things. The first is, that the}' belong to the
rhetoric and not the .science of education. It is, no
doubt, wise for the teacher, and probably for others also,
to magnify the educational function; but to magnify it to
the extent of practically denying that heredity is a great
factor in human life, not to speak of equalizing the facul-
ties of men, is to set at naught the stubbornest facts
and also to invite defeat in the pedagogical field. The
second observation is, that school education is quite lim-
ited as compared with the whole field of human culture.
No matter how good .schools may become, they will never
supply to the ma.ss of men the major part of the knowl-
edge and di.scipline that is nece.s.sary for a well-ordered
life.
It is worth while to make more diligent inquiry con-
cerning the relations of the school to the other agencies
of human cultivation. Of all writers known to me. Dr.
W. T. Harris has best an.swered this question. "The
four cardinal institutions of human civilization by which
1 See Ribot: Heredity ^ p. 347.
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 47
man realizes his ideal and educates the individual into
that ideal," he says, "are the family, civil society, the
state, and the church." Each of these institutions has a
special phase of education all its own, whose functions
cannot be performed by another." As a matter of course,
these institutions somewhat overlap and supplement one
another. The survey is complete, but the school has not
been found; it is not a cardinal institution of societ}', as
is shown by the fact that men so long did without it.
Dr. Harris thus defines the province of the school: —
Education in its most obvious signification as the transform-
ing influence which the great social institutions — family, civil
society, nation, and church— exert on the individual in order to
convert him from a savage into a civilized being, reinforces its
more general educational instrumentalities by a special institution,
the school.
The school is established for the training of youth morally and
intellectually in a direct manner by the influence of the teacher.
The school forms a supplementary special institution whose place
or order is found between the family and civil society. It comes
partly after the first stage— that of family nurture— and partly
contemporary with it, and usually precedes the era of the educa-
tion of civil society, namely for an independent vocation, work or
business. ^
To assist the cardinal institutions of civilization is the
sphere and function of the school. It is one of the numer-
ous products of division of labor, effected long after the
beginnings of human cultivation; it has very materially
lightened the work of the cardinal institutions, and has
performed much of that work in a far better manner than it
had been done, or now could be done, without it; but all
attempts, whether arising from a decline of interest in
1 See the Report on Pedagogics made to the National Council
of Education at Madison, July, 1884, found in The Proceedings
of the Council and in The Proceedings of the National Educational
Association for that year.
148 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
those institutions, or from enthusiasm for schools, to
thrust this secondary agent into their places, and to demand
that it shall do all, or nearly all, of the educational work,
must necessarily result in hopeless failure and bitter dis-
appointment. It is hard for an observing man to resist the
conclusion that society has been tending strongly in that
direction. There is reason to think, in particular, that
certain well-known causes — such as the development of
specialization in all directions, growing love of ease and
enjoyment on the part of the well-to-do classes, and increas-
ing competition in business — are materially weakening the
family in more ways than one. At all events, it can never
be impertinent to observe that this primordial institution
cannot devolve its educational functions and duties upon
churches and schools, no matter how good the churches
and the schools may be.
Let it not be said that these fears are groundless. Pro-
fessor Laurie, of the University of Edinburgh, says in a
late article: " Mothers of the wealthier classes will tell us
that they have no time for the training of their children;
the demands of society are too exacting to admit of it.
The day will come, if the race is to make progress, when
it will be the other way about, and society will have to
content itself with taking a second place, while the duties
of the nursery and the parlor will make good their prior
claim."
It is not my purpose to belittle the offices of the
teacher and of the schools; rightly considered, those offices
are of very great importance. Neither do I wish to
depreciate what the teacher and school have done for
.society; they have been of incalculable benefit. Even in
the field of morals, where there is so nuich criticism, it is
my firm belief that the school is ])erforniing its duties
(juite as well as the family or the church. Take the
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 149
children of a large city for example; where else do tens
of thousands of them learn such valuable lessons in punc-
tuality, regularity, obedience, industry, cleanliness, de-
cency of appearance and behavior, regard for the rights
and feelings of others, and respect for law and order as in
the public schools? Nay, more; where else do many of
them learn any valuable lessons on these subjects ? Nor do
I wish to turn aside from the schools the force of merited
criticism; there can be no question that they stand greatly
in need of improvement. Least of all do I wish to imply
that Dr. Eliot shares the highly extravagant ideas con-
cerning the office of the school that are so current, and
yet even his ideas are extravagant. My purpose is rather
to reduce the popular estimate of the school as an engine
of individual and social improvement to something like
just measure. It is high time that we should have a
fuller discussion than we have ever yet had of the limi-
tations of the teacher inhering in the abilities of children,
in the facts of social life, and particularly in the nature
and office of the school itself.
Dr. Eliot presents in numbered order the main opera-
tions of the mind that systematic education should develop
in an individual in order to increase his general intelli-
gence and train his reasoning power. The first of these
processes or operations is observation; the alert, intense,
accurate use of all the senses. The next operation is the
function of making a correct record of things observed.
Then comes the development of the faculty of drawing
correct inferences from recorded observations, the faculty
of grouping or coordinating and comparing facts, and of
drawing from them sound and just conclusions. Fourthly,
education should cultivate the power of expressing one's
thoughts clearly, concisely, and cogently. Observing
150 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
accurately, recording correctly, comparing, grouping, and
inferring justly, and expressing cogently the result of
these mental operations — these are the things in which a
man must be trained in youth, if his judgment and rea-
soning power are to be systematically developed. Let it
be obser^'ed that the emphasis is here placed where it
rightly belongs; on discipline or power and not on infor-
mation or attainments in knowledge. Then the four
points are well chosen; to develop the powers mentioned
is the primary end to be promoted by schools and teachers,
and we may justly call a school or a school sj-stem that
falls far short of its duty in these particulars a failure.
Still, we mu.st not overlook the ideas of relation and
mea.sure. The question arises, How much can the ele-
mentary .school do to teach the pupil to observe, to record,
to infer, and to express ? Of course, the answer can be
only an approximate one, but even that President Eliot
does not give, .save indirectly. He rather reviews the
staples of instruction in the elementary schools, and pro-
nounces the results meagre and unsatisfactory. The
acquisition of the art of reading is mostly a matter of
memory, he .says; the .same mu.st be .said of writing:
as to English .spelling, it is altogether a matter of memory:
geography, as commonly taught, means committing to
memory a mass of curiously uninteresting and unimpor-
tant facts, while arithmetic is the least remunerative sub-
ject in elementary education as now conducted. This is
certainly a discouraging inventory. Drawing, manual
training, kindergarten work, and Ics.sons in elementary
.science are dismissed with ob.serving that they are recent
additions to the school cour.se, that they occupy but a
small part of the whole .school time, and have not yet
taken full effect on the men and women now at work in
the world. No attempt is made to estimate the value of
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. T51
these observational studies. Not a word is said about the
language, the composition, the grammar, or the history;
the last two he would, no doubt, dispose of much as he
disposes of geography and arithmetic.
Now it must be admitted that the elementary teachers
of the country fail to get out of the school studies th^
disciplinary value there is in them. Reading, geography,
and history maj- be particularly mentioned. Still, it must
be said that President Eliot's handling of the studies that
he mentions does not do justice to- the work that is now
accomplished, apparenth' because his standard is too high.
Speaking of the whole educational system from top to
bottom, he says "the art of expressing one's thoughts
clearly and vigorous!}' in the mother tongue receives com-
paratively little attention." I do not undertake to say
how the young men who now enter college compare with
those who entered it a generation ago, or how the more
cultivated cla.sses now and then compare in respect to
ability to write the Engli.sli language; but there can be
no question that the mass of the people write Engli-sh
better at present than they ever did before.
The judgment pronounced upon .secondary and higher
education is not more favorable than that upon elementary
education. Here a large part of the time is given to the
study of languages, which, as usually conducted, does
little for the pupil but develop his memory. It is a
rare teacher of languages, we are told, who makes .such
teaching the vehicle of much thinking. Nor do the
other studies exercise any of the mental faculties vigor-
ously but the memory. In the higher institutions the
cultivation of the memory also predominates; the observ-
ing, inferring, and reasoning powers are subordinated.
How far these criticisms are true is a matter of opinion,
but the common opinion of educated men is no doubt con-
152 STUDIES IN EDITATIOX.
siderably more favorable than Dr. Eliot' s. He lays desenT'ed
stress upon the proposition that the educational value of a
subject depends very largely upon the way in which it is
taught. "No amount of memoriter stiidy of language,
and no attainments in arithmetic,'' he says, "will protect
a man or woman— except imperfectly through a certain
indirect cultivation of general intelligence — from succumb-
ing to the first plausible delusion or sophism he or she
may encounter. No amount of such studies will protect
one from believing in astrology, or theosophy, or free
silver, or strikes, or boycotts, or in the persecution of
Jews or of Mormons, or the violent exclusion of non-
imion men from employment- ' ' This is all as true as true
can be, and it brings us at once to the questions: What
changes should be made in our curricula and methods of
teaching in order to get a fuller development of the
powers of judgment and reasoning? How can the school
better equip the people of the land to deal with the dan-
gerous sophisms and fallacies that afflict society ? We
anxiously turn Dr. Eliot's pages to catch his answer to
the.se important questions. His formal prescription em-
braces .seven items.
(1.) We must make practice in thinking a constant
object of instruction from infancy to adult age, no matter
what may be the subject of instruction. (2. ) Wise ex-
tension can be given to the few ob.servational studies al-
ready introduced into the earl}- .school grades. (3.) More
time can be given to the practice of descriptive and argu-
mentative writing. (4.) Those subjects that give practice
in the cla.ssification of facts and in induction mu.st be
taught in schools, not from books, but by laboratory
methods. (').) Not only should the time devoted to his-
torical .studies for older pupils be nuich increased, but the
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 53
method of teaching them should be so changed as to
disciphne the logical powers of the mind. (6.) In the
higher part of the system of public instruction, political
economy and sociology should receive much more atten-
tion than at present, and should be taught as disci-
plinary subjects. (7.) Concrete argumentation should
be taught in schools by taking up and analyzing argu-
ments that have actually determined the course of trade,
industries, and public affairs, such as Burke's Speech
on the Conciliation of America and Webster's Reply to
Hayne.
The first remark that this prescription calls out is, that
for the last twenty years our pedagogical writers and lec-
turers, almost to a man, have laid constant stress upon
the cultivation of the powers of observation, judgment,
and inference. "Do not cram but develop," has been
more thoroughly dinned into the ears of teachers than any
other single pedagogical precept that can be named, and
if little is now accomplished in the schools but to cram
the memory the educational outlook is not encouraging.
President Eliot's remarks might lead one to assume that,
relatively, the pupils of the schools are now full of empir-
ical knowledge, — real .store-houses of information— which
every person familiar with the facts knows is not the case.
The school children of the land do not know any more
than they ought to know.
The second observ^ation is, that the current belittling
of the memory is largely unreasonable and mischievous.
To exalt the logical faculties is all right; to belittle the
faculties of retention and reproduction is all wrong. It is
not impertinent to say that if a man has a fine memory,
there is no reason why he should be ashamed of it. Pro-
fessor James may be quoted on the broader aspect of this
subject.
154 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
No one probably was ever effective ou a voluminous scale
without a high degree of this physiological retentiveness. In the
practical as in the theoretic life, the man whose acquisitions stick
is the man who is always achieving and advancing; whilst his
neighbors, spending most of their time in relearning what they
once knew but have forgotten, simply hold their own. A Charle-
magne, a Luther, a Leibnitz, a Walter Scott— any example, in
short, of your quarto or folio editions of mankind — must needs
have aiuazing retentiveness of the purely physiological sort. Men
without this retentiveness may excel in the quality of their work
at this point or at that, but will never do such mighty sums of it,
or be influential contemporaneously on such a scale. *
This point having been duly guarded, there is no reason
why we should not accept President Eliot's prescription
and thank him for it. Still the question arises. How far
are his ideas practical ?
In the first place, all those suggestions that relate ex-
clusively to the real higher institutions of learning can l^e
fully carried out. It is very desirable to qualif}^ the lib-
erally educated men of the country to do sounder think-
ing than they now do on political, social, and economical
subjects. At present, as is v^^ell known, students graduate
from college, excellent linguists, chemists, or mathema-
ticians it ma}' be, who.se opinions on such matters are little
better than childi.sh. More than this even, the same is true
of many .scientific speciali.sts and other professional men.
Still more difficult is the question that relates to the ele-
mentary and the high schools. Relati\'ely , l:)Ut few Amer-
ican 3'ouths go beyond the high school, or even beyond the
higher elementary grades; and unless Dr. Kliot's prescrip-
tion will materially affect the.se schools beneficially it is not
going to do much directly for the mas.ses of the people.
Here we must, in the finst place, rule out the last three
items of the prescription. Even secondary pupils cannot
^Psychology, Vol. I, p. fico.
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 55
carry on the higher historical studies; the}' can do
nothing with sociology or political economy, save in the
most empirical fashion, and while they will admire the
declamatory passages of great speeches, like Burke's and
Webster's, they cannot follow the argumentation.
In the second place, much the larger share of the im-
provement to be effected in these schools must come from
better teaching of the old and tried subjects. In the early
grades, and indeed to the end of the grades, great stress
must be laid on the memory. Only in this way will
the child retain what he is taught and what he learns
for himself, and thus accumulate a store of material
upon which he can exercise his powers of compar-
ison, judgment, and inference. All the higher mental
operations are dependent upon retention and reproduc-
tion. Stimulation of the logical faculties should be-
gin with the first grade, and should become more and more
energetic as the pupil ascends the grades. A great deal of
work must be done in school that involves but little in-
telligence, as to acquire the mechanical elements of reading,
spelling, and writing; but such studies as reading, compo-
sition, geography, history, mathematics, elementary
sciences, literature, and language can be made disciplinar3\
Language as the substance of thought is more important
than language as the form of thought, or as a fine art.
The teacher of Cicero should require his pupils to follow
the sequence of the argument, as well as to observe the
grammatical construction of the language in which it is
clothed. Besides, while pupils in the upper grades and
in high schools can no more carry one of Webster's con-
stitutional arguments than Milo could have shouldered
the ox the first morning that he lifted the calf, they
can deal with inferior but still useful forms of argumen-
tation.
156 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
Whether the so-called observational studies, such as
drawing, manual training, and elementar}^ vScience, should
receive considerably more attention than at present, I
am less anxious to inquire than I am to examine an
assumption underhung the affirmative repl}' that is often
given to it. This is the assumption that the menta)
forces, like light, heat, and electricit}', are convertible
one into another; or, perhaps it were better to sa)', that
mental power is fully generic.
Power or skill resulting from an}' kind of exercise may
be considered under two aspects, one specific and one
generic. The strength that a gymnast accumulates in
bowling is all usable in bowling, but it is only partially
and secondarily usable in running or in rowing. The
power engendered b}- solving mathematical problems can
all be emploj-ed in carrjnng on mathematical work, but
only a part of it is available in studying language or his-
tory. The extent to which power created by such exer-
cise is convertible — that is, the extent to which it is gen-
eric ■ — depends largely upon the degree of congruity ex-
isting between the first and second forms of activit3^
Plahily, if a man's powers were fully convertible they
would all be equal. Such, brief!}' stated, is a law that is
not sufficiently regarded either in educational practice or
in educational discussion. This law President Eliot
sometimes seems to have distinctly in mind. He says,
for example, that no amount of memoriter study will
directly arm a man against a.strology,theosoph3^,free silver,
strikes, boycotts, or the persecution of Jews and Mormons.
" One is fortified," he goes on to say, " against the ac-
ceptance of unusual propositions only by .skill in determin-
ing facts through observation and experience, by practice
in comparing facts or groups of facts, and by the imvar\--
ing habit of questioning and verifying allegations, and of
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION, I 57
distinguishing between the facts and inferences from the
facts, and a true cause and an antecedent cause." While
this is excellent, he should have added that skill acquired
by observing facts of one kind and by drawing inferences
from them, is not whoUj^ convertible into skill in dealing
with a different kind of facts. Of course, observation, com-
parison, and inference are much better than memory in
such a case. But again, he sometimes seems wholly to
lose sight of the law of specific and generic results. He
says the savage has abundant practice in observ^ation, for
he gets his daily food only by the keenest exercise of his
senses. It may be said with equal truth that the savage's
boasted power of observation is a specialized and there-
fore a limited power; introduced into London, the savage
is far less observant than a cockney, and left to himself
would soon starve to death. Again, we are told "that it
does not matter what subject the child studies, so that he
studies something thoroughly in an observational method.
If the method be right, it does not matter among the
numerous subjects well fitted to develop this important
faculty which he chooses or which be chosen for him. ' '
This may be true as respects method; but there is no
method of observ^ation that can take the place of personal
contact with the facts themselves. While precision, pa-
tience, and verification are of general value, it would be
very far from true to say that good scientific observ^ers, in
their several fields, are necessarily good observers in
respect to politics, manners and customs, and business
affairs; or vice versa. It is indeed a question how far
habits of observation formed in the fields of nature serve a
man in the fields of humanity. And so it is with the
logical faculties. There is no method or form of observation
or reasoning that a man can acquire and then effectively
turn, like a swivel gun, in any direction that he pleases.
150 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
We are therefore led to ask, How far can the studies
now taught in schools be made directly to qualify pupils
to deal with the highly special and concrete delusions and
fallacies that President Eliot enumerates ? First, how-
ever, let it be said that if any one doubts the validity of
the conclusion that has been reached in regard to the spe-
cific and the generic, he should ponder such questions as
these: Are mathematicians less liable to fall into popular
delusions and sophisms than philologists? Do chemists
enjoy any special immunity from fiat money and free sil-
ver? Are physicists, botanists, geologists, and astrono-
mers particularly skillful in reaching sound conclusions in
regard to strikes and boycotts ? Has the persecution of the
Jews in Germany been confined to men taught in the hu-
manistic gymnasia ? Have students trained in American
schools of science shown special aptitude in dealing with
the Mormon question ? In general, are those persons
who cultivate the observational studies particularly expert
in escaping the snares that bad politicians and other
charlatans set for our feet ? No disparagement of scien-
tific studies or of scientific methods lurks in these ques-
tions; their sole purpose is to show that the relation of
these studies to social affairs, outside of special lines, is
less intimate than many people assert.
Only practice in observing, comparing, and judging
human facts — facts into which freedom, and so probabil-
ity, enter — can fit a man in an eminent degree for deal-
ing with social delusions and fallacies. The school studies
that lie proximate to such experience as this in the field
of real life, fall into the historical and philosophical
groups. The student who has rightly studied history,
sociology, and political economy should be able to deal
cff'ectively with social and political questions; but even
the.se studies will not confer the Dowcr to do .so if they are
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDLCATIOK. 159
pursued in a merely formal and abstract manner. The
studies that lie outside of these groups can equip the citi -
zen for social and political action only imperfectly, through
a certain indirect cultivation of general intelligence and
logical acumen. Some studies will do more in this direc-
tion, others less; but the more closely they relate to hu-
manity, the more they will do. This is why literature
properl)^ taught is so valuable as a discipline.
Shall we then enlarge the kindergarten work, the draw-
ing, and the manual training in the public schools ?
While much can be said in favor of the proposition on
some grounds, I fear that little can be said on the ground
that these studies will quickly bring the free-silver proph-
ets to confusion, or that they will afford increased secu-
rity for the Jews in Berlin or for the Mormons in Utah.
lyCt the man who disputes this judgment show how han-
dling the " gifts," or doubling up pieces of colored paper
in a kindergarten, or how drawing, or handling ax,
hammer, and saw in a manual training school, lightens
his pathway when he walks up to the ballot-box on elec-
tion day. Are union workmen in paper-box factories more
regardful of the rights of non-union workmen than union
men in other industries ? Do men who handle tools never
strike or engage in boycotts? Are engineers who use
drawing instruments panoplied against astrologers and
fortune-tellers ? And do they never accept absurdities in
regard to the origin of the English system of weights and
measures or of the Great Pyramid ?
Then it should be remarked that superior mental ma-
turity and superior instructors are not the only advantages
which college students enjoy over students in lower schools:
there is also more liberty of thinking. Notwithstanding
the efforts that newspapers, politicians, and occasional
patrons have sometimes made to put stoppers in the
l6o STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
mouths of professors of political economy, there yet
exists a large measure of academical freedom. Still, some
professors feel it necessary to be circumspect in dealing
with certain economical and financial fallacies that
threaten society. And it would hardly be safe to intro-
duce into the public high schools a course entitled ' ' Pop-
ular Delusions." In those schools a teacher could, no
doubt, work his will upon the tulip craze, the Mississippi
Scheme, the South Sea Bubble, Continental money, viul-
ticatdis, and blue glass, but prudence would counsel him
to deal gently with protection and free-silver, and to leave
theosophy and Christian Science wholly alone.
The standard of measurement for the vSchools that Pres-
ident Eliot sets up is the qualification of those who have
attended them to discharge their social duties and to deal
with social and political problems. He never tires of tell-
ing us that the schools do not prevent strikes and boycotts,
fallacies relating to silver and the tariff, theosophy and
Christian Science, or drive astrologers and bone-setters
out of business. This test, although a severe one, is per-
fectly fair when it is properly explained and qualified.
Assuredly, unless society is becoming more reasonable
and human the State has little encouragement to perse-
vere in providing free education for the people. How-
ever, to measure the extent to which popular education
has qualified the masses of our people to deal with social
fallacies and delusions is a difficult undertaking. It is
also an undertaking that cannot be entered upon in this
place, but two facts or groups of facts may be stated that
will at once show wh}- it is difficult, and also explain in part
why greater progress has not been made in that direction.
First, the .social and political problems that arise in a
large and highly organized society are never easy. To
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION, l6l
deal with them effectively is the highest test of knowl-
edge and mature discipline. They are not questions for
boys or half-educated men, but for well-educated men; at
least this is true of the more difficult of them. For
example, there are few men at any time who are compe-
tent judges of a revenue, educational, or financial system.
Of those who hold what Dr. Eliot would consider sound
opinions on the currency, a majorit}^ are largely guided
by authority. Besides, the enormous social and political
changes that have been accomplished in a hundred years,
and notably in our own country, have greatly increased
the number and difficulty of such problems. Such causes
as the growth of knowledge, the progress of invention,
the extension of the area of civilization, the increase in
the numbers and in the density of our population, have
added immensely to the scope and complexity of society.
In respect to commerce and trade, industries, the division
of labor, education, transportation, literature and the
press, benevolent and reformatory agencies and institu-
tions, social life, and the distribution of wealth, how won-
derfully heterogeneous American life has become ! Could
the Americans of the last century be suddenly introduced
to the America of to-day, the}- would show a confusion
similar to that shown by savages when conducted through
the streets of a great city. The country moves at such
speed that even well-educated men cannot maintain the
pace and keep fully abreast of the questions and issues
that concern them. The work of legislation constantly
becomes more difficult and trying both in quantity and
quality. Compare the legislation enacted by the General
Court of Massachusetts, or by Congress, in the year 1792
with that enacted in 1892. Still more, compare the legis-
lation proposed in the first year with that proposed in the
second. Nor does the constant enlargement of our admin-
1 62 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
istrative and judicial systems prevent increasing complaints
of poor and insufficient service.
Secondly, at the same time that our society has been
becoming more and more heterogeneous it has been becom-
ing more and more democratized. Many conservative
checks and balances that existed a century ago have been
swept away and others have become mere fictions. For
the first time in historj- a democracy of sixty-five millions
of people, far advanced in social differentiation, is acting
upon the stage of the world's affairs. Still more, since
democracy tends to weaken authority, expert knowledge
and opinion are generally undervalued. No doubt twelve
Americans sitting in a jury-box pay as much heed to a
chemist who swears that he found arsenic in a dead man's
stomach as the same number of Frenchmen or Germans;
but they certainly pay much less heed to educational
and financial experts. The result is, that we cannot
alwa3'S command the best knowledge or the best thought
that is current. For instance, the courses of instruction
sent out by ministers of education from Paris, Dresden, and
BerHn better represent the highest pedagogical thought of
France, Saxony, and Prussia than those adopted by our
thousands of school boards and school committees repre-
sent our highest thought. The German States manage
their educational affairs and their financial affairs better
than we manage ours; but who, for a moment, supposes
that a democratized German nation, holding such vast in-
terests as ours in the hollow of its hand, and also such vast
resources, would conduct them with more intelligence and
reason ? It is further to be observed that a democratic
society where elementary education is universal, is the
best possible hotbed for the generation of crude theories,
specious sophisms, and delusive hopes, particularly w^hen
human possibilities are so great as in the United States.
PRESIDENT ELIOT OX POPULAR EDUCATION'. 1 63
The Athenians were the freest, the most intellectual, and
the best educated people of antiquity: Athens also
afforded the rhetorician, the sophist, and the demagogue
unrivaled opportunities.
Then it must not be forgotten that other factors than
reason and knowledge pla}' an important part in human
life. Not many of the sophisms that ensnare men reall}'
have their tap-roots in bad thinking; for the most part
they spring out of the interests, feelings, and passions of
men. "The human understanding," says lyord Bacon,
"is no dr)^ light, but receives an infusion from the will
and affections; whence proceed sciences which may be
called 'sciences as one would.' For what a man had
rather were true he more readily believes. Therefore he
rejects difficult things from impatience of research; sober
things, because they narrow hope; the deeper things of
nature, from superstition; the light of experience, from
arrogance and pride, lest his mind should seem to be occu-
pied with things mean and transitor>'; things not com-
monly believed, out of deference to the opinion of the
vulgar. Numberless in short are the ways, and some-
times imperceptible, in which the affections color and
infect the understanding."^ Another Baconian phrase is
"drenched and blooded;" and a recent writer, applying
it to philosophies of life, says it is hard to decide
how much is observation and how much hope, and
whether the Hfe is more determined by the philosophy
or the philosophy by the life." Herbert Spencer thus
expresses the same fact, perhaps in an exaggerated
form: "Ideas do not govern the world; the world is
governed by feelings, to which ideas serve only as
guides. ' '
_l
^Novnm Organuin, XLIX.
^Mackenzie: An Introduction to Social Philosophy, p.
164 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
It is almost needless to remark that the questions which
Dr. Eliot uses for illustration are " drenched and blooded' '
questions. The advocates of fiat-money and free silver,
for example, may be roughly divided into the honest and
dishonest, the first being much the larger class; but it
must be said that the thinking of the honest class is in-
fluenced or dominated by interest or other feelings. The
subtle fallacies that lurk around the subject of mone}' play
with peculiar effect upon a mind that wants to believe
them, especialh' if it is badly disciplined and informed.
We may be perfectly certain that sophisms and delusions
which ignorance and bad logic have not directly caused,
knowledge and good logic will not directly correct. Such
correction can be effected only indirectl)', by enlarging
and purifying the common intelligence.
What follows then ? That our social ills are incapable
of further amelioration? Not so. Such ameliorations
have been effected, and there is no reason to suppose that
we have reached their limit. We need not doubt that the
American people are managing their affairs better than
any people that has preceded them could have managed
them; or that, as our education improves in quality, as our
civilization becomes more mature, as the people become
better able to sift and to winnow what passes for knowl-
edge, and particularly as they are constrained to pay
more attention to the experience of the past, they will
learn to manage them still better. But there is nothing
in human nature or in human experience that points to
the conclusion that fallacies, sophisms, and delusions will
not always abound, or that education will ever fully
neutralize them. Democracy is not a perpetual motion,
or education a panacea. On the other hand, the intelli-
gent and reasonable, the wise and disinterested, must
always stand guard over the interests of society.
PRESIDENT ELIOT ON POPULAR EDUCATION. 1 65
Perhaps it is not impertinent to observe that I have not
confined my remarks strictly to Dr. Eliot's article. I
have combated views that he has not expressed, and that
I have no reason to suppose that he holds. They are
views, however, that relate to the topics which he handles.
Still more, I have brought forward topics that he has not
mooted, because I consider their consideration essential to
the full discussion of the main subject.
VII.
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR IN THE
UNIVERSITY AND COLLEGE/
jEDAGOGICAL instruction has long been
given in the principal universities of Germany.
Since 1876 the Bell Chairs of the Theory,
History, and Art of Education have existed
in the Universities of St. Andrews and Edinburgh, Scot-
land, and still more recently similar chairs have been
established in several of the universities of the United
States. The object of this paper is to justify the existence
of these chairs; not pedagogical instruction or pedagogical
chairs in general, but such instruction and such chairs
in the university and college.
At the outset, attention may be drawn to three historical
facts. Germany leads the world in scholarship and
scientific research, and particularly in the cultivation of
educational science; Scotland, also, is a classic land of
learning and of schools; moreover, our American chairs of
pedagogy are a result of the widest and profoundest in-
terest in educational subjects known to our history.
These facts are very significant, creating a strong pre-
sumption that these German, Scottish, and American
professorships are not the result of ignorance or accident,
but of a felt need and intelligent choice. From the high
' A paper read before the Normal Department of the National
Educational Association, Nashville, Tenu., July, 1889.
166
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. 167
vantage-ground of this presumption the broader aspects
of the subject will be surveyed.
The word ' 'education' ' is one of the most plastic and
flexible in the language. It is used dynamically and
statically, in a collective and an individual sense. Ex-
cluding all life but human life, also the collective and the
static senses, we find the word employed in three different
acceptations.
1. The process of transformation wrought in a man by
all the agents and powers that act on him, of whatever
kind, from the cradle to the grave; as well those that con-
stitute his natural and social environments as those that
constitute the home and the school; as well those that are
blind, unconscious, and unpremeditated as those that are
intelligent, conscious, and premeditated.
2. The process of transformation wrought in a man by
the premeditated action of society, with a view of develop-
ing his powers and moulding his character; such efforts
being put forth more especially in his infancj^ and youth.
3. The process of transformation wrought in a man,
mostly in his youth and plastic years, by governors and
tutors, and particularly in schools of some sort.
The first of these definitions includes both the others;
the second includes the third. Just how much of the
whole field the science of education covers, and whether
this science and pedagogy are coextensive, are questions
not definitely settled. ' ' A complete history of education, ' '
says Compayr^, "would embrace in its vast developments,
the entire record of the intellectual and moral culture of
mankind at all periods and in all countries. It would be
a resume of the life of humanity in its diverse manifesta-
tions, literary and scientific, religious and political. It
would determine the causes, so numerous and so diverse,
ibS STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
which act upon the characters of men, and which, modi-
fj'ing a common endowment, produce beings as dififerent
as are a contemporary of Pericles and a modern European,
a Frenchman of the Middle Ages, and a Frenchman sub-
sequent to the Revolution."^ The extreme limits of this
field are determined by such inquiries as those that have
engaged the attention of Mr. E. B. Tylor and Sir John
Lubbock, on the one hand, and such speculations and
visions as those of Plato, Gerson, and Swedenborg, on
the other. A history of education in this sense would be,
as CompajT^ remarks, "a sort of philosophy of historj^,
to which nothing would be foreign, and which would
scrutinize in its most varied and most trifling causes, as
well as in its most profound sources, the moral life of
humanity." The university cultivates this vast field,
although not under the name of a single science. The
chairs of anthropology, histor}', archaeology and antiqui-
ties, philosophy, literature, philology, ethics, comparative
religion, jurisprudence, economics, and politics mark its
most important subdivisions. No one denies the univer-
sity's right to investigate or teach every one of these sub-
jects. But when, with M. Compayre, we throw out the
''occult coadjutors of education — climate, race, manners,
social condition, political institutions, religious beliefs,"
and narrow the field to the ' 'premeditated action which
the will of one man exercises over other men in order to
instruct them and train them"; or when, with Dr. Bain,
we throw out still other factors, and confine the science
of education to the "arts and methods emplo3-ed by the
schoolmaster," as tj^pifying the educational process in its
greatest singleness and puritj'^ — when this is done, is the
remaining territory the proper subject of university in-
* The History of Pedagogy. — Introduction.
^Education as a Science, p. G.
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. 169
vestigation and instruction ? So long as the university-
investigates and teaches the ideas, habits, customs, gov-
ernments, and religions of the lowest savages— that is, the
whole compass of their culture — it will be difficult to deny
its right to treat with equal respect the educational ideas,
theories, methods, appliances, and systems of the most
highly civilized nations.
By common consent the university has two great func-
tions. One of these is research, the discovery of truth;
the other is instruction, the practice of the art of teach-
ing; that is, the university first finds out truth and then
gives it forth. The two interact. Furthermore, the
university not only practices research, but it makes re-
search itself the object of study and investigation. Science
becomes conscious and reflective, and laj-s bare all her
processes and methods. Whj-, then, .should it not inves-
tigate and teach its other function, that of teaching ? Why
should an institution that exists for the sake of investi-
gating the arts and sciences leave its own peculiar art
neglected and despised ?
But education is much more than a great and difficult
art: it is a noble science. Back of its methods, processes,
and systems are facts, ideas, principles, and theories —
in fact, whole systems of philosophy. As Rosenkranz
remarks, pedagogy cannot be deduced from a single prin-
ciple with such strictness as logic and ethics, but is a
mixed science, like medicine, deriving its presuppositions
from other sciences,^ as physiology, psychology, logic,
esthetics, ethics, and sociology. It is therefore conditioned
on some of the noblest of the .sciences, especially those
of the moral group. The very fact that it is a mixed
1 The Philosophy of Education, p. 1. Translated by Anna C.
Brackett.
170 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
science adds to its difficulty, and emphasizes the demand
for its cultivation. It is hard to see how the university,
whose admitted function is education, can pass by the
science, art, and history of education without discrediting
its own work and virtually denying its own name. To
practice the art while refusing to cultivate or teach the
science of teaching, is little better than rank empiricism.
The last argument derives additional strength from the
peculiar stage of education upon which the foremost
nations and countries have now entered. Education has
at last reached the reflective or scientific stage- Throw-
ing off the clutch of the empiricist, she has ascended to her
long-vacant seat in the famil}^ of the sciences. Evidences
of this are the increased attention paid to education by
text-writers on psj'-chology and ethics, the later pedago-
gical literature, the more vS5'stematic and rational methods
of instruction in schools, and the rapidly- increasing facili-
ties for teaching educational science. Thus the very
existence of the chair is a proof of its usefulness and its
necessity. On this ground alone — indeed, on the nar-
rower ground of endowing research — the chair can be
fully vindicated.
Again, education has a history. In the very broadest
sense, as we have seen, the field of educational historj' is
the field of human culture; and even when limited, as
before, to the con.scious work of teachers in schools, it
still presents whole series of facts, problems, and lessons
of the greatest interest and importance. Before the
teacher lies the whole field of .school-life, from the simple
prophets' and priests' schools of early times to the highly
developed schools and school .sj'stems of Europe and
America. While education belongs to general history,
the study of which is pursued for its culture value, it has
been almost wholly neglected. The writer and lecturer
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. I71
on general historj- do indeed touch the education of the
ancients, and make mention of the Medieval universities;
they pay some attention to the marvelous educational
developments of modern times; but they lay much more
emphasis on subjects of far inferior interest. But educa-
tion should be made the subject of special historical
study as much as religion, art, or politics. Were it as
thoroughly investigated as the Polytechnic School of
Munich investigates engineering (maintaining forty-
five distinct courses of lectures in that science), the
history of education alone would tax the resources of
the most learned and laborious professor. It is not con-
tended that the chair of pedagogy can at present cul-
tiv-ate this field as carefully as this allusion may imply;
but certainly here are topics of the greatest interest and
importance, that demand admission to the university list
on an equal footing with other subjects of historical
investigation. So long as the history of education is
a means of education, so long will it continue a proper
university study.
Thus far the argument has been theoretical, resting on
the speculative need of investigating the science, art, and
history of teaching, and on their educational value. But
the practical phases of the subject must also be presented.
1. Even if the work done by the pedagogical chair
should pay no immediate attention to the preparation of
teachers, it could not fail to be of much practical value.
The scientific study and teaching of a science and an art,
in their purely theoretical aspects, always promote the
practice of the art; and the presence in every university
in the land of a pedagogical professor, thoroughly de-
voted to his chair, could not fail to quicken interest in
the subject and to promote the teaching art.
172 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
2. While it is a serious error to hold the university to
be nierel}' a place of instruction, and to overlook research
— an error that is only too common in the United States —
instruction is still one of its grand functions. It is en-
gaged in teaching the highest branches of knowledge.
Its professors hold their chairs by reason of their profes-
sional ability, as well as by reason of their learning.
Where, then, may the science, the history, and the art of
teaching be so properly taught as where the art flourishes
in a high form ?
3, The conditions of pedagogical study existing in the
university, taken all together, are the best that exist any-
where. First, the university offers the student a varied
curriculum from which to choose collateral studies. Sec-
ondly, it illustrates teaching in all the branches of liberal,
and in many branches of technical, study. Thirdl5^ the
library, which furnishes an extensive apparatus for gen-
eral as well as special .stud}', is an invaluable facility.
Fourthly, the university is the home of liberal studies;
its traditions and associations are conduci\'e to cultivation,
and the .student in residence finds him.self in the mid.st of
a learned and cultivated .society.
This point is deserving of a more elaborate .statement.
It is well known that special schools tend at once to depth
and narrowness; intension is secured at the expen.se of
extension. This is necessar}' to a degree; but if the pro-
cess is carried too far, mischievous results follow. Hence
the advantage of uniting the professional school with the
school of liberal studies —an advantage greater now than
ever before, because scholars, men of science, and teach-
ers are pushing .specialization to its extreme limits- We
should not be surprised, therefore, to find writers who
have touched the topic, laying much .stress on the advan-
tage to the student of receiving his pedagogical instruc-
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. 1 73
tion in an academical institution. Professor Laurie insists
that the teachers of the secondary schools of Scotland
need professional preparation as well as university train-
ing. "Where shall they get this?" he asks. "They
might be required to combine attendance at a training
college with attendance at the university for a degree;
but this, though it might serve as a provisional arrange-
ment, would not secure the end we seek. And why
should not this arrangement secure the end we seek? For
this reason, and for no other, that a specialist training
college does not answer the same purpose as a university.
The broader culture, the purer air, the higher aims of
the latter, give to it an educational influence which spe-
cialist colleges can never exercise.'"
Whether academical teaching should be furnished in a
normal school, is a question often discussed. That ques-
tion does not come within the range of this paper; but
the observation may be made that such instruction nnisl
be defended theoretically, if at all, on the ground of its
liberalizing and strengthening tendencies.
4. It is a function of the university to furnish society
with teachers. Research, teaching, and the preparation
of teachers are the three great duties that it owes society.
The preparation of teachers for primary and grammar
schools, and po.ssibly for the lower classes of high
schools, might be left to normal and training schools; but
high schools and other .secondary schools must receive
their character from teachers of a higher grade of schol-
arship. It is a favorite conceit of some public-school
men, as well as many citizens, that the public schools are
fully adequate to create their own teachers, unless it be
in some of the more special lines of high-school study
and instruction; even the superintendents, they hold,
*■ The Traifiing of Teachers, pp. 10, 11.
174 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
should " come up from the ranks;" but no man who un-
derstands the tendencies and effects of specialization , par-
ticularly the results of breeding in-and-in. will for a
moment favor such a narrow policy. The public schools
have done an invaluable work in furnishing teachers to
society; but it is a weight}' fact that no schools more need
to be kept in vital relation with the schools of higher
instruction.
5. The chair of pedagogy and the teaching profession
need the strength and dignit}- that university recognition
will give them. Such recognition will be the strongest
testimony that the university can bear to the public of
the estimate in which it holds the great art that it prac-
tices. In that way, too, it will most strongh- impress its
students with the estimate in which it holds the teacher's
calling. When our aspiring young men and women see
accomplished professors of the science, art, and history
of teaching in the universities and colleges of the land,
vying with the professors of philosophy, ethics, jurispru-
dence, political economy, and history in the exposition of
tlieir favorite subjects, they will form a higher concejv
tion of the teacher's work. This argument also has been
urged with much force by writers on education. Profes-
sor I^aurie, for example, says that the teaching profession
of Scotland, almost with one voice, hailed the action of
the Trustees of the Bell Fund when they established the
Bell chairs at St. Andrews and Edinburgh. The feeling
was that they had ' ' conferred honor on a department of
work that Dr. Bell delighted to honor. They ha\-e un-
questionably done very much to promote education in
Scotland, not only by raising the work of the schoolmas-
ter in public estimation, but also by attracting public
attention to education as being not merely a question of
machinery for the institution of schools (essential though
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR.
^75
this undoubtedly is), but a question of principles and
methods — in brief, of philosophy." He says, further,
that the institution of the Edinburgh chair increased the
importance of the teaching body, gave it academical
standing, and made it possible for the first time to insti-
tute in the universities a faculty of education, like the
faculties of law, medicine, and theology.^
The argument can be strengthened by historical analo-
gies. Professional instruction has long been given in the
highest seminaries of learning. The learned professions
have loved to nestle under the wings of the universities.
The faculties of theology, law, and medicine have so long
been constituent parts of the university that some may
suppose that such has always been the case. But this is
not the fact: the faculty of arts is the original faculty on
which the university was founded, and around which the
other faculties have grown up. One of our ablest Ameri-
can pedagogists — my honored predecessor at the Uni-
versity of Michigan, President W. H. Payne — says:
' ' The main strength of the recognized professions is
their organic connection with great seats of learning.
Law, medicine, and theology," he goes so far as to say,
' ' had never been professions except on the condition of
university recognition and support ; nor could their
professional character be sustained if this support were
withdrawn." ^
The argument from recognition derives additional
strength from the history of education. No other noble
art have men treated with such general contempt. No
other noble calling, at least in its lower walks, has been
abandoned to such unworthy agents. According to
Socrates, the Athenians took more care in selecting train-
1 T/ie Training of Teachers, pp. 6, 7, 17.
"^Contributions to the Science of Education, p. 269.
176 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ers for their horses than for their children; and Phitarch
says that in his da}-, as men assigned their slaves to dif-
ferent employment according to their fitness, if they
found any slave who was a drunkard, or a glutton, or
unfit for any other business, they made him a pedagogue.
L,uther says he was whipped fifteen times on one da}' at
school because he could not recite what he had not been
taught. Compayre says as late as 1837 the French
schoolmasters practiced all the trades; they were day
laborers, shoemakers, ushers, beadles, and inn-keepers;
they were poorly paid and enjoyed no social considera-
tion; they were on the same footing as mendicants, and
were often infirm, crippled, and unfit for any kind of
work. Carleton has described the hedge school of Ire-
land in one of his graphic tales. Whether men have de-
.spised the training of children, and so committed it to such
unworthy agents, or whether they have allowed it to fall
into such hands and then despised it, is immaterial; but
certainly from classic days to recent times the elementary
school and its teachers have been made the subjects of
keenest ridicule. What a figure the schoolmaster cuts
in literature, from the days of the flogging Orbilius to the
days of Dominie Sampson and Squeers! Commonly cruel
and tyrannical, generally ignorant, always uncouth and
awkward, and, if occasionally learned, also pedantic, the
schoolmaster of literature is not a character in whom one
can feel a professional pride. No doubt the satirists have
made the most of their opportunity; no doubt there have
been many admirable teachers; but, on the whole, the
repute of no other workman has fallen so far below his
work as the repute of the teacher. We live in better
times. At present society is demanding that teachers
shall have higher literary qualifications, and that they
.shall be superior persons; both of them most hopeful
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR.
177
signs. The university will materially strengthen these
tendencies by maintaining the chair of education.
6. There is a still broader ground on which the
question can be urged. Teachers are not the only per-
sons who are interested in educational problems. Those
problems concern, and should interest, all intelligent men
and women. If the graduates from our higher institu-
tions of learning could take two courses of lectures, one
in the theory and practice and one in the history of edu-
cation, before receiving their diplomas, they would find
the knowledge and training thus received of very great
advantage to them. Mr. Spencer's vigorous argument
on this point will not soon be forgotten. "The subject
which involves all other subjects, and therefore the sub-
ject in which the education of every one should terminate,
is the theory and practice of teaching. ' '
7. The university itself needs the chair of education to
give it completeness and symmetry. So long as its right
— its duty even — to investigate and teach the arts and
sciences generally is not only admitted but a.sserted, it is
strange indeed that anyone should question its right and
duty to investigate and teach its own processes and the
principles underlying them. The fact is, that in this
respect the American university has been an empiricist.
Heretofore it might say in self-defense that education was
largely empirical; but that argument has now lost most
of its force. Nor can a university in any other waj' so
effectually defend education against that charge as by
creating a professorship to cultivate it as a .science.
But this is not all: the university needs the chair for
practical reasons, separate and apart from the preparation
of teachers. Its occupant, if a man of real force and
attainments, could not fail to stimulate pedagogical thought
among both professors and students, thus creating a
178 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
mental habit and an atmosphere that would be useful in
many waj'S. Somebody in the faculty should stand for
educational science. Particular stress may be laid on
the new university conditions growing out of elective
studies, such as throwing upon students the difficult
and important subject of educational values. Then
the study of education may be strongly recommended to
advanced students on disciplinary and culture grounds.
When they near the end of the curriculum they cannot,
indeed, correct the mistakes that the}' have made; but
they can coordinate their knowledge and their ideas,
giving to the sum-total of their attainments something of
the form and consistency of system. And this is in the
highest degree desirable. It solidifies, and so preserves,
what has been learned, and influences further acquire-
ment. It is my firm conviction that university seniors
generally could spend a semester in such an intellectual
clearing-house with the greatest advantage. Nor is there
any place where this work can be so well done as in the
classroom of a competent professor of pedagogy. On this
ground alone the chair of pedagogy in the higher institu-
tions can be successfully advocated.
The history of the universities throws much light on
our subject, and I shall close by stating some of the more
important facts of that history.^
In the older universities of the Parisian model, instruc-
tion was not confided to a special bod}- of professors, but
the university was taught and governed by the graduates-
at-large. Professor, master and doctor were synonymous
terms. Every graduate had the equal right to teach pub-
* See Sir William Hamilton's articles on " Rnglisli Universities "
and "University Reform," first published in the Edinburgh Re-
view, and now found in his Discussiofis on Philosophy, etc.
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. I79
licly in the universit}- the subjects belonging to his faculty
and to the rank of his degree, and was even required by
the terms of his degree to do so. The bachelor was
bound to read under a master or doctor of his faculty
a course of lectures; and the master or doctor was obliged
immediately to commence {incepere), and to continue for
a certain period to teach {regere), some of the subjects
belonging to his faculty. Hence "commencement," the
time when the perfect graduate commenced to teach, and
the so-called " necessary regency." However, the uni-
versities did not enforce the obligation of public teaching
so long as there was a competent number of voluntary
teachers or regents to do the work; besides, the schools
belonging to the several faculties were frequently inade-
quate to accommodate the young inceptors. And so it
came to pass that the period of necessary regency was
successively shortened, and finally dispensations from
actual teaching were commonly allowed. In these cir-
cumstances originated the distinction of regent and non-
regent; to the first of whom, progressively, full privileges
of legislation and government came to be confined. This
distinction was most rigidly marked in the faculty of the
arts. ' ' In the other faculties, ' ' says Sir William Hamil-
ton, "both Paris and Oxford, all doctors succeeded in
usurping the style and privileges of regent, though not
actually engaged in teaching; and in Oxford the same
was allowed to masters of the faculty of arts during the
statutory period of their necessary regency, even when
availing themselves of a dispensation from the per-
formance of its duties, and extended to the heads of
houses and to college deans." He says further that
the teaching function was accorded the bachelor on
two grounds: " Partly as an exercise towards the higher
honor, and useful to himself; partly as a performance
l8o STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
due for the degree obtained, and of an advantage to
others." In Germany the course of academical history
vvas somewhat different. There the thesis that the candi-
date for the Doctor's degree is now required to " defend,"
as well as to read, is a survival of the ancient custom.
It is not difficult to discover the causes that made
bachelors as well as masters of arts university teachers, and
that afterwards ousted them from their privileges. The
multitude of pupils that flocked to the Medieval universi-
ties—20,000 to Bologna and 30,000 to Oxford— many of
whom were very young and immature, called for a large
number of teachers. The university felt its obligations
to the public. Moreover, the conviction that teaching is
a most important means of learning had great influence.
The establishment of secondar}^ schools, which drew
away the younger pupils from the universities; the growth
of science in both breadth and depth; the development
of specialization in teaching and in research, and the
ambition of the Dons — these are the main causes that
banished from the universitj' the somewhat miscellane-
ous body of teachers of the earlier times, and established
a body of professional instructors. The change was not
only natural but inevitable.
The causes that banished the body of graduates from the
university as teachers will prevent their reappearance in
that capacity. The university cannot again furnish society
with teachers, or teachers with needed discipline, in the
ancient manner. The forces that worked the great change
are far stronger to prevent its being unworked. This is
a revolution that will not go backward. What then?
Shall the university forget its ancient function of furnish-
ing society with teachers ? Shall it pretend that when it
has made scholars it has also made teachers, and thus
ignore or deny the value of professional training ? Shall
THE PEDAGOGICAL CHAIR. l8l
it confine itself to research and to teaching? Or shall it
remember its ancient practice, and, recognizing all the
new conditions, including the demand for the professional
training of teachers, establish and maintain the Chair of
Education until the time comes for it to give way to the
Faculty of Education? This last is a question to which
there can be but one final answer.
It will be seen that while the university and college are
mentioned together in the caption of this paper, the
university alone has been mentioned in the argument.
Hence the observation that, as the college raises its stand-
ard and approaches the level of university work, the same
reasons will apply to it as to the university.
VIII.
THE CULTURE VALUE OF THE HIS-
TORY OF EDUCATION.'
HE appearance on the morning's programme
of the subjects following my own will cause no
surprise. That the liistor}- of education con-
tains lessons of great practical value for the
educational statesman, for the school administrator, and
for the teacher, are propositions by no means novel,
even if their importance is not fully appreciated.
That this history also has great culture value may
not be a novel proposition, but it is certainly much less
familiar than the others, and is much less appreciated.
This is the proposition that I am to bring into the fore-
ground.
I must first explain that by the culture value of the
subject I mean its total value separate and apart from
guidance or practice. Everything that the histor}' of
education does for the mind as such, whether training its
powers, storing it with information, or planting it with
fruitful ideas, is included in the topic. In this discussion,
however, it will not be necessary, or advantageous, to sep-
arate the total culture product into these several parts.
Possibly it is commonly supposed that the history of
education consists of dry bits of information relating to
studies, methods of school organization, teaching and
discipline, school legislation, and school appliances, to-
*A paper read before the National Educational Association at
Nashville, Tenn., July, 1889.
182
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 1 83
gether with personal notices of some quite peculiar and
uninteresting men called schoolmasters and educational
reformers. It does indeed embrace all these subjects, which
are of such great practical importance; however, if this were
all we could not make a very large culture claim for the
study. But this is far from being all; it is, in fact, but
husk and rind, so far as culture is concerned. It would
not be easy to name a division of the history of philosophy,
or of the philosophy of history, that brings before the
mind a richer store of facts or a more interesting group
of problems.
First, educational S3'stems in the legal sense are an im-
portant department of law, and an interesting branch of
institutional history. Education is recognized in every
one of our State constitutions, in some of them at much
length; while our State school laws are among the most
characteristic parts of American legislation. It is an
obvious remark, that these laws reflect the character and
temper of our people, and partake of the nature of our
institutions as a whole. It maj- be equally obvious that
these laws, so far from being based on certain a priori
principles, conform throughout to our local political insti-
tutions. For example, there are in the United States two
radically different systems of local government. In New
England the unit of government is the town; in the South,
the county. In the one section, the county is used for
judicial purposes only; in the other, the town is nothing
but the jurisdiction of a justice of the peace and an elec-
tion district. A third system has sprung up from the
combination of these two. The compromise system of
the old Middle States, and of the West, makes less of the
town and more of the county than New England, and less
of the county and more of the town than the Southern
184 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
States. Our State school systems, corresponding to these
large institutional facts, are also divisible into three
groups. Until the recent Vermont legislation in relation
to the county superintendency, I am not aware that the
word "county" was found in the school law of a single
New England State. At the South, again, school ofl0.cers
and school machinery belong mainly to the county. And
finall}^ the compromise-system States use both the town
and the county for educational purposes, just as they do
for the other objects of local government.
Examples of the correspondence between school systems
and their social and political environments are plentifully
furnished b}^ the states of Europe. In France and
Germany, the administration of the schools and of educa-
tion is highly centralized, like every other department of
public affairs; while that large piece of patch- work called
the Elementary Education Acts well illustrates the slow
process of evolution by which the institutions of England
have been produced, the heterogeneous elements of which
they are composed, and the extreme conservatism of the
English mind.
Education therefore is deserving of study as a part of
the institutions of nations. The education of youth is
certainly a much more important element of civilization
than the punishment of criminals, but educational insti-
tutions have been less studied than penal institutions by
others than professional educators.
In the vSecond place, educational systems, considered as
mental and moral disciplines, are developments of ideas;
they are born of philosophies, religions, civilizations.
This can be .shown adequately for the occasion by an out-
line map of the territory that the history of education
covers. Frequently the division lines will overlap, but
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION, 1 85
my object is to give a general view of the field and not a
close logical analysis.
1. The inquiry how education has been influenced
by particular civilizations would include the effects of
national ideals, as those of Athens, Sparta, and Rome in
ancient times, and Prussia and America in modern times.
It would embrace also the educational results of the
caste system of Hindustan, of democracy in the Gre-
cian republics, of absolute monarchy in France under
the ancien regime, of constitutionalism in England, and
of republicanism in the United States. Nor would the
inquiry end with the influence of the several factors in
the particular countries where they existed; many of their
most interesting results would be found in remote lands
and in distant times, China did not make any contribu-
tion to current Western educational history until, a few
years ago, we began to study her civil-service and exami-
nation systems; but Greece, from her character and geo-
graphical position, has profoundly influenced the educa-
tion of every Western country since the da5'S that she
sent her colonies to Italy, Gaul, and Spain.
2. The educational effects of schools of thought come
next. Exclusive of theology, thought has moved in two
main channels. The first Greek thinkers occupied them-
selves with physical problems. They sought to under-
stand and to explain nature; but their explanations, as
was natural, are now thought rather curious than valuable.
Socrates at first studied the same subjects; but, failing to
reach results that satisfied him, and becoming con-
vinced that the gods had withheld the causes of ma-
terial things from the knowledge of men, he applied
himself to human problems, and so became the founder of
philosophy. His motto was "Know thyself;" and
although the scientific treatises of Aristotle and the phys-
1 86 STUDIES IN EDUCATION-.
ical discoveries of the Alexandrian philosophers were
promising anticipations of modern science, thought con-
tinued to flow mainly in the humanistic channel for two
thousand j-ears. In the large sense, Socrates was the first
and the greatest of humanists. In the seventeenth century
we come upon the main stream of the second great intel-
lectual movement. In English-speaking countries, and in
all countries where the experimental philosophy has made a
deep impression, the name of Lord Bacon has been, and
still is, more closely identified with this movement than
that of any other thinker. In late years there has been a
tendency to challenge Bacon's claims, but we must in
fairness acknowledge the force and justness of Professor
Fowler's words, " He called men, as with the voice of a
herald, to lay themselves alongside of Nature, to study her
ways, and imitate her processes. To use his own homely
simile, he rang the bell which called the other wits to-
gether. Other men indeed had said much the same thing in
whispers, or in learned books written for a circle of select
readers ; but Bacon cried it from the housetops, and in-
vited all men to come in freely and partake of the feast.
In one word, he popularized the study of nature. He
insisted, both b}^ example and precept, on the influence of
experiment as well as observation. Nature, like a wit-
ness, when put to the torture, would reveal her secrets." ^
Thus the name of Bacon stands for science as the name
of Socrates .stands for philosophy. It is impossible to
name subjects more unlike in matter than these two
subjects. Thej^ present also strong differences of pro-
cess and method in both investigation and exposition.
The historian of education is not concerned with these
great intellectual movements as such, or with humanist or
scientist; but he is intimately concerned to know and to
1 Bacou, p. 11)7.
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION'. 1R7
explain how they have affected the study of mind and
shaped theories of human nature; how they have moulded
educational ideas and furnished the materials of study;
how they have influenced the scale of educational values,
and determined methods of teaching and school govern-
ment. Who shall estimate the pedagogical consequences
of such Baconian utterances as these: ' ' Man is the ser\^ant
and the interpreter of nature;" "We can only conquer
nature by first obeying her;" and, "The kingdom of
man, which was founded on the sciences, cannot be entered
otherwise than the kingdom of God— that is, in the
spirit of a little child?"
A still more particular inquiry as to philosophy is this:
How has education been affected by its various systems,
as the Platonic and the Aristotelian, Sensationalism and
Idealism ?
3, How has education been influenced, as respects its
ideals, its subject matter, its methods, by the religions and
churches of the world, and by particular movements and
organizations within them ? To be more specific, what has
been the influence of historical Christianity , and of such cur-
rents within its wide stream as asceticism, scholasticism,
mysticism. Protestantism, and the Catholic revival? INI.
de Laveleye, the distinguished Belgian publicist and
economist, once said: " The Reformed religion rests on a
book — the Bible." " Catholic worship, on the contrary,
rests upon sacraments and certain practices, such as con-
fessions, masses, sermons." What, if any, is the educa-
tional significance of these two facts ?
No man competent to deal with this problem is likely to
question that, as a whole, Christianity far transcends an>-
other force or movement that has acted upon education.
Consider for one moment the tremendous momentum that
the enthusiasm of humanity has given to educational
1 88 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
effort. " A new commandment I give unto ^-ou, that 3'ou
love one another; as I have lo\-ed j-ou, that ye also love
one another." Undoubtedly, men who approached educa-
tion on the secular side have done educational work of
ver)' great value; but the men who have burned with
educational zeal — the evangelists of new fields, the heroes
of new conquests, the martj'rs of the cause— have been
Christian men, filled with the spirit of Him who was
moved with compassion on the multitude, when He saw
that they fainted and were scattered abroad as sheep
having no shepherd. Nor, as the centuries pass away,
does this flame burn less pure or bright. It warmed the
heart of Pestalozzi as well as of St. Boniface. All in all,
the educational influence of John Amos Comenius has been
greater than that of any other man of recent times. And
Comenius was a Moravian bishop, impelled in all his un-
dertakings by the same spirit that sent some of his brethren
as missionaries to the snows of Greenland and others to
the forests of Ohio. " As Comenius increased in 5'ears,"
says Professor I^aurie, ' ' the religious element in his
educational theories assumed more and more prominence.
But he never lost sight of his leading principles. The
object of all education was to train children to be sons of
God, but the way to do this was through knowledge, and
knowledge was through method. ' ' ^
4. Next may be mentioned the educational conse-
quences flowing from intellectual eras or epochs; as the
reaction of Greece upon Rome, the Renaissance, the mod-
ern scientific era, the ascendency of the French mind
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and the won-
derful growth of German influence since the downfall of
Napoleon. There are conjunctions in the world's history
where we find real new educations; such as the intro-
^John Atnos Comenius: p. 213.
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION, 1 89
duction of the Greek learning into Italy by the Romans,
the revival of ancient letters, and the expansion of modern
science.
5. The rationahstic movement, which Mr. L,ecky
well characterizes as, "not any class of definite doc-
trines or criticisms, but rather a certain cast of thought,
or bias of reasoning, ' ' began with the revival of letters,
and has continued its resistless sweep until it has sapped
the basis of authority, greatly weakened faith, swept vast
masses of dogma into the limbo of things forgotten,
set up new standards or modified old ones in almost every
department of life, and restored to civilization the old
Greek spirit of inquiry. How this yeast has worked
since the time when the disciples of Abelard prayed their
master to give them "some philosophical arguments,
such as were fit to satisfy their minds; begged that he
would instruct them, not merely to repeat what he taught
them, but to understand !" How great the distance that
separates us from the day when Scheiner, the monk, was
told by his superior that he could not have seen spots
on the sun, since Plato and Aristotle mentioned nothing
of the kind in their writings !
6. Then there is modern democracy, or the universal
spirit, that, repudiating the old theological theory of
government, and basing the state on the dogma of contract,
has profoundly modified every department of life.
7. The secularizing tendency, which, as well as democ-
racy, is closely connected with the rationalistic movement,
has changed educational ideals, broken up old courses of
study and made new ones, and, to a great extent, com-
pelled the clergy to pass the educational torch to laic
hands.
8. Last of all may be mentioned material progress,
perhaps the greatest fact in a time of great facts. The
190 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
Opening up to civilization of the vast regions of the earth
unknown before the Age of Maritime Discovery, or unoc-
cupied, together with the power over Nature that discovery
and invention have conferred upon man, has piled Ossa
on Pelion until we no longer even guess what the sur-
prises of the future will be. However, we shall hardly
dissent from the opinion of Mr. Spencer : ' ' Throughout
the civilized world, especially in England, and above all
in America, social activity is almost wholly expended in
material development. To subjugate Nature, and bring
the powers of production and distribution to their highest
perfection, is the task of our age; and probably of many
future ages." ^ It is true that material progress, like
many other parts of modern civilization, is largely a
product of modern education; but it has reacted upon its
cause, changing ideals, substituting new subject-matter
for old, and modifying school methods. "It is im-
possible," says Mr. I^ecky, "to lay down a railway
without creating an intellectual influence. It is probable
that Watt and Stephenson will eventually modify the
opinions of mankind almost as profoundly as lyUther or
Voltaire."" While the transforming educational power
of material progress has already been very great, it is
certain to be still greater. Men are not wanting who tell
us that an education based on books, no matter how it
may have answered the demands of civilization hitherto,
is ill-suited to the wants of an industrial and commercial
age, and that we must create a new education based on
things and manual processes. This is an extreme claim;
but we readily see how it has originated, and why it is
pressed with such persistence.
' Essay on The Morals of Trade.
* Ralionalistn in Europe, pj). 1, S.
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION. IQI
But we must look at our subject under a third aspect.
The school is a product of civilization, and, historically, a
late one, later than the family, state, and church. But
it has reacted with marked power and effect upon civiliz-
ation, modifying its forms, changing its spirit, recon-
structing its ideals, and altering its character. Moreover,
this reflex influence is constantly growing in strength.
More and more the schoolmaster is getting abroad.
Stronger and stronger becomes the thread of educa-
tion in the strand of civilized life. Formal argument is
hardly called for to prove these propositions, but one or
two historical illustrations will not be out of place.
Says Mr. John Fiske : ' ' The Puritan theory of life la}'
at the bottom of the whole system of popular education
in New England. According to that theory, it w^as
absolutel}^ essential that ever}' one should be taught from
early childhood how to read and understand the Bible.
So much instruction as this was assumed to be a sacred
duty which the community owed to ever}- child born
within its jurisdiction." The results of the system of
schools that .sprang from this root idea are before the
world. Mr. Fiske finds the same theory of life acting in
Scotland; and he goes so far as to say: " And one need
not fear contradiction in saying that no other people
in modern times, in proportion to their numbers, have
achieved so much in all departments of human activity as
the people of Scotland have achieved. It would be super-
fluous to mention the preeminence of Scotland in the
industrial arts since the days of James Watt, or to recount
the glorious names in philosophy, in history, in poetry
and romance, and in every department of science, which,
.since the middle of the eighteenth century, have made the
country of Burns and Scott, of Hume and Adam Smith,
of Black and Hunter and Hutton and Lyell, illustrious
192 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
for all future tinie."^ Back of, and causing, all these
splendid developments were the parish and burg schools
that date from John Knox. Renan may have overstated
the truth when he said the German Universities conquered
at Sedan; but men recognize that education pla3'ed a most
important part in the tremendous war which in 1870-
1871 considerabl}' changed the map of Europe, and pro-
foundly affected the adjustment of its political and military
forces. On the opening of the Paris Exposition two months
ago, keen obser^'ers began at once to study the products
there exhibited with reference to their educational bear-
ings. Moreover, they have promptly told us that they
find clear proof that, in some lines, America is falling into
the rear. Thus, every day the impression deepens that
education and schools are essential elements of national
power and progress.
Then there are certain divisions of knowledge a fair ac-
quaintance with wliich is deemed essential to a well-edu-
cated man. Reference is not now made to the mere technical
subjects that are taught in schools, as languages, math-
ematics, and sciences; but to those more general branches
of knowledge that constitute what we commonly call
"generalinformation," and sometimes "fact-lore." Men-
tion may be made of military history, politics, material
progress, religion under its doctrinal and institutional
forms, art, and literature. Now it cannot be denied,
either that education is a subject of at least equal import-
ance and dignity with these, or that it is much less under-
stood. Educational knowledge has never taken rank
with the other large divisions of knowledge; and, if the
paradox may be allowed, education is the one great sub-
ject about which educated men generally are most igno-
' The Beginnings of New England, pp. lol, 152.
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 1 93
rant. This fact is a part of that undervaluation of educa-
tion which is so patent in the history of civilization. Two
series of facts will set the general proposition in a clear
light.
Intelligent men are almost universally ill-informed con-
cerning contemporary educational history. Men who can
give you a particular account of the progress of political
events in France since 1870, can give you no account
whatever of the almost equally remarkable series of edu-
cational events. Americans understand German schools
and education better than those of any other foreign
country; and yet with the exception of a small number
of cultured men this understanding is extremely vague
and general. Men in numbers can explain, with much
fullness and accuracy, that wonderful complex of preced-
ents, documents, and institutions which make up the Eng-
lish constitution, who know nothing of England in an
educational aspect beyond the bare fact that Oxford and
Cambridge are its great Universities.
Nor do we find a happier state of things when we
change from contemporary to historical events. Here,
however, it must be confessed that the materials of infor-
mation are not easy of access. The man who has never
read the common books of history with the point in
mind, can poorly appreciate their barrenness of such mate-
rials. One dependent solely upon these sources of infor-
mation would hardly get the idea that there were schools
and teachers in antiquity, or that they have been of much
consequence in modern times. He will search the copious
indexes of Grote's, Thirlwall's, and Curtius' histories of
Greece in vain for the words "teacher," "school,"
"study," and "education." Merivale and Mommsen do
better. Some very interesting views of Roman education
are found in their works, but by no means the full views
194 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
that the student of educational histor}' desires, Macaulay
said the historian of England should be a combination of
Henry Hallam and Sir Walter Scott. He introduced into
his Historj^ — for example, into the celebrated third chapter
— much material that writers before him had despised and
neglected, thus imitating the artist mentioned by himself
who made the most beautiful window in the Cathedral of
Lincoln out of bits of glass that his fellow- workmen had
cast aside. And yet Macaulay did nothing for the history
of education beyond some accounts of the universities,
and a half- page devoted to female education at the Restor-
ation. Mr. J. R. Green, as he says in his preface,
strives to keep his book from sinking into a drum-and-
trumpet history. He gives more space to Chaucer than
to Crecy, to Caxton's press than to the Yorkist and Lan-
castrian strifes, to the rise of Methodism than to the
Young Pretender; and still, except some interesting views
of the universities and the sentence, "The Sunday schools
established by Mr. Raikes, of Gloucester, at the close of
the [eighteenth] century, were the beginnings of popular
education," I recall nothing in his "Short Histor)'," or
in its later expansion, directly touching the education of
the English people. Mr. Lecky does a little better; in
his sixth volume he gives between two and three pages to
popular education — which is just twice the amount of
space that he gives to the introduction of the umbrella
into England. I know of no history of England that
gives any account whatever of the ancient grammar
schools, or of the great public schools, which are such
important factors in the civilization of the country.
Even when full allowance has been made for the former
feeble state of education, and particularl3^ public educa-
tion, such remissness as this is inexcusable. Apparently,
war and politics are still themes so attractive as to draw
CULTURE VALUE OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION. 1 95
the attention of historians from such a splendid theme as
national education.
Finally, to guard against possible misapprehension a
few words of caution. It may be said that my programme
is too ambitious; that interesting and important as are the
facts and problems presented, they belong to the history
of civilization or philosophy rather than education; that
they lie above the level of normal-school, or even of col-
lege and university teaching; and that they have more
interest and value for the philosopher and the historian
of philosophy than for the practical teacher and school
officer. This view is not without truth. I have .sought
to assign to Education her proper place in the family of
philosophical studies. No doubt my programme is not at
present full}' attainable in even our best equipped univer-
sities. At the same time, this programme should be kept
in view as an ideal. No doubt the professor of the his-
tory of education must not allow his instruction to evap-
orate in philosophical speculations; he must remember our
practical aims, and especially our practical needs; he
must keep the teacher's schoolroom and the superinten-
dent's office constantly in view. But if he is wise, he will
at all times push his own studies along the higher levels
of the subject; he will present his facts in the light of
reason; he will be philosophical as well as pragmatical,
and will not fail to connect educational facts and prob-
lems with the important philosophical, social, scientific,
and religious facts and problems with which the}- are
so closely bound up. If at all fit to occupy his chair,
the professor will understand that there are two classes of
elements in the practice of education — the temporary and
the permanent, the necessary and the contingent: by an-
alysis he will separate these classes of elements one from the
other; and he will so establish his pupils in this distinction
196 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
that they will not be apt to follow noisy educational proph-
ets who, losing sight of it, either fall into utter charla-
tanry, or so exaggerate some elements of education as to
make the whole product monstrous. The teacher of the
history of education is the man to establish in the minds
of those fitting to teach a proper educational perspective.
IX.
THE TEACHER'S PREPARATIOK'
O person can successfully teach any subject
who has not clear and correct ideas of the
ends that he should seek to gain. As this re-
mark is a particular application of the truism
that no man can do a thing well without knowing what he
wants to do, insistence upon it may be thought super-
fluous. Such, however, is not the fact, and I shall give
it the emphasis of two or three paragraphs.
A teacher may undoubtedly teach well the instrumental
studies in their earlier stages without grasping their whole
significance. He deals largeh- with mechanical pro-
cesses, physical and mental. It is indeed desirable, since
the mechanical and rational elements of education finally
blend in perfect unity, that the primary teacher should
grasp the ultimate end of these educational arts, but we
cannot insist upon it as absolutely essential. He will not,
however, be successful unless he sees distinctly the im-
mediate objects to which the work leads. What reading
is, and wky\i is taught, are questions that he must be able
to answer. And so of waiting, number, and drawing.
Much more as the mechanical stages of these arts are left
behind, must the teacher con.sciously grasp their higher
uses.
With some qualification these remarks may be repeated
with respect to the non-instrumental studies. It is not
> An address delivered before the Normal Department of the
National Educational Association, Toronto, Canada, July, 1S91.
197
198 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
strictly neces.sary that the teacher who deals mainly with
the facts of geography' , history, literature, or science,
rather than with their interpretation, should full\- per-
ceive their higher elements and objects. Even here,
however, such insight is more desirable than at the cor-
responding stage of reading and writing, for the work is
less mechanical and more rational. In fact, all that the
phrases "mechanical stage" and "rational .stage of educa-
tion" mean is, that in the first we throw the emphasis
upon the empirical elements, while in the second we throw
it upon the philosophical elements; fir.st in respect to par-
ticular .studies, and then in respect to education as a whole.
Furthermore, while studies differ widely in the ratio
existing between facts and principles, and the .same study
in the ratio of these elements at different .stages, there is
no .study, and no stage of any stud}', that is wholly lack-
ing in either. Still more, as the teaching of the non-
instrumental .studies recedes from the matter-of-fact stage,
as now defined, the teacher must fully di.scern the final
reasons of his work and be guided by them. He must
feel the force of the philo.sopher' s beatitude, "Happy is
he who knows the causes of things."
What has now been said is very well sunniied up in the
words of Dr. Arnold : " It is clear that in whatever it is
our duty to act, those matters also it is our duty to
.study."
I. The Fundamental Facts of Fducation. — The first of
these is the mind itself. The mind is capable of activity,
of self-activity; through its activity it grows, increases,
enlarges; while it is one, and has no parts, it is capable of
acting in different spheres, and through these activities its
powers or faculties are developed. This enlargement or
increase of the mind is what we menu bv education when
THE teacher's PREPARATION.
199
we properly understand ourselves. Once more, the mind
cannot act, and so cannot enlarge or become educated, if it
is merely left to itself. Hence the second fundamental
fact of education is the world or knowledge. Nature first
sets the mind in motion, and so incites its growth or edu-
cation; afterwards the same results are produced by the
mind's own states and affections. However, until the
relation of contact between the mind and the world or
knowledge is established, there is no mental activity, and
so of course no education; but the moment such contact
is established activity begins and education takes its rise.
Accordingh', the third fundamental fact is the mind and
the world, or knowledge, in relation.
These fundamental facts the teacher miist firmly and
clearly grasp, because they bound his province as a
teacher.
II. The Teacher s Function. — In the strict sense of the
word, the teacher's function, as an instructor, is deter-
mined by the relation of knowledge to the mind. How
to use knowledge, or rather how to cause the pupil to u.se
knowledge, in such a way as to promote proper mental
growth, or education, is the central question of the
teacher's art. As a former of minds, he has no duty
to perform that is not included in this generalization.
That the teacher may successfully prosecute his art,
he must know: —
1. The activities of the mind, their nature and rela-
tions, and their respective values as determined by the
facts of life, individual and social; or, in other words, he
must have an educational ideal.
2. The varieties of knowledge (or, as Bacon calls
them, the "knowledges " ) and their power to stimulate
and form the mind, in respect both to quantity and quality;
200 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
or he must have worked out, partially at least, the problem
of educational values/ The person who has this knowl-
edge, conjoined with skill in bringing knowledge and the
mind into vital relation, can successfully discharge the
function of a teacher; and only such person can do so.
III. The Tzvo Aspects of Kiioivledgc. — The foregoing
analysis makes apparent the fact that knowledge, or
studies, must be considered from two standpoints, the
academical and the pedagogical.
^Perhaps a pregnant passage in Lord Bacon's essay "Of
Studies" has had more to do with suggesting the term "educa-
tional values" than any other in literature. "■Histories make
men wise; poets witty; the niathematicks subtill; Natural I Philo-
sophy deepe; Morall Grave; Logick and Rhetoiick Able to Con-
tend. Abeiint studia in mores. Nay, ther is no Stond or
Impediment in the Wit, but may be wrought out by Fit Studies.
Like as Diseases of the body may have Appropriate Exercises.
Bowling is good for the Stone and Reines; Shooting for the Lungs
and Breast; Gentle Walking for the Stomacke; Ridingfor the Head;
And the like. So if a Man's Wit be Wandering, let him Study
the Mathematic/cs; for in demonstrations, if his Wit be called
away never so little, he must begin again. If his Wit be not apt
to distinguish or find differences let hiin Study the Schoolmen;
for the}' are Cymini sectores. If he be not apt to beat over mat-
ters, and to call up one Thing, to Prove and Illustrate another,
let him Study the La-vyers' Cases. So every Defect of the INIinde
may have a Speciall Receitt."
Dr. James Ward remarks that a threefold analogy seems to
underlie the phrase ' 'educational values ' ' ; studies may be regarded
as exercise, as medicine, or as food. The two first he finds com-
bined in the above passage from Bacon, which he quotes, but he
thinks that the third analogy more directly suggests the word
"value." "Physiological textbooks," he says, "have famil-
iarized us with tables exhibiting the respective values of fat and
lean, sugar, starch, etc., for sustenance of brain or muscle, for
maintaining warmth, preventing fatigue, and so on." The three-
fold analogy suggests " mental dietetics, mental gymnastics, and
mental therapeutics.''
THE teacher's PREPARATION. 201
The academical point of view is the one occupied
by the pupil in the school and the scholar in the world.
Such person is profited by knowledge in two ways; his
mind is formed and informed by it, and in this way he is
made ready for the work of life. The general scholar or
the common man has no special reason for studying
knowledge with reference to its forming and informing
powers, or to inquire careful!}- into the ways in which it
shall be applied to educational uses.
The professional or pedagogical point of view is
the one occupied by the teacher or other person interested
in the philosophy of education. As already implied, it
includes in its inventory the following elements: The
activities of the mind; the relations of different kinds of
knowledge to these activities; the discovery or invention
of methods whereb)^ mind and knowledge may be brought
into due relation; that is, methods of teaching. These
questions bring before us the whole rationale of forming
and informing the mind, in so far as the teacher's art is
concerned with it; in other words, the science and the
art of teaching.
IV. The Distribution of Emphasis. — Both of these ways
of looking at knowledge may be emphasized, or either one
may be emphasized to the partial exclusion of the other.
The placing of disproportionate emphasis on the one or
the other is well illustrated by the divergent tendencies of
college and university teachers, on the one hand, and of
common-school and normal teachers, on the other.
Active college men cultivate knowledge and learning;
they belong to the various associations and societies look-
ing to those objects; but as a class they take little interest
in the .science and the art of teaching. They give a
202 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
minimum of attention to the reflective or scientific side of
the profession that they follow. Thej' are not much inter-
ested in teachers' associations and meetings, and often
look upon them with ill-concealed contempt. They are
prone to deny that there is a science of teaching, and
sometimes say that education has no history worth study-
ing. Some of them look askance upon the new chairs of
pedagogics in the universities and colleges, and a few
oppo.se to them an active resistance. "What literature
is there for him to teach ? ' ' was once a,sked in a prom-
inent university when it was proposed to add to the
facult}' a professor of the .science and the art of teaching.
That college teaching suffers severely in consequence of
this neglect of the teaching art, does not admit of question.
Common-school and normal teachers lay more stress
than college professors on the professional factors of edu-
cation. Wh}-, I need not inquire; the fact is unmistaka-
ble. They make up a large majorit}' of the great arm}--
that attend meetings like the present one. Thej^ carry on
most of the discussion relating to teaching. Indeed, if
our educational a.ssociations should lose the support of
these teachers there are few of them that would not
perish at once. But, on the other hand, these teachers are
m\ich less prominent and active than college professors in
the field of learning and investigation. One reason of this
is, that if such a teacher begins to attract attention in these
fields he is pretty apt to be called into college or university
work; but I suspect that few of them are identified with
the learned or scientific societies of the country. Common-
school teachers are relatively over-absorbed in the technics
of their work, which suffers .seriously in consequence.
Now that the teacher should be deeply interested in both
the academical and profe.ssional aspects of teaching, or
THE teacher's PREPARATION.
203
that both sides of his preparation need to be suitably em-
phasized, becomes demonstrably certain when we consider
the relations existing between the two. The following
points may be noted: —
1. Academical preparation is not sufficient. Knowl-
edge cannot be mechanically deposited by one person in
the mind of another, or mental power be similarly trans-
ferred. The mind has its own laws of growth, like a
plant or an animal, which must be regarded. Horace
Mann once said that children love knowledge as natural!}-
as they love hone}'; and to the objection that some do not
appear to do so, he replied that neither would they like
honey if it were poured into their ears. Hurling facts at
children's heads, or piling up knowledge on the table, is
not teaching. It is well known that great .scholars are
sometimes very poor teachers. They either have no native
aptitude for teaching, or they have neglected the cultiva-
tion of their art. But it is important to observe that pri-
mary teaching is a more delicate art than college teaching.
Young pupils have almost no power to organize knowl-
edge, whereas advanced students can re-sort and rearrange
masses of material that are cast before them. Feeding an
infant is a more delicate operation than feeding a giant-
Were the majority of primary teachers such bunglers as
many college professors are, they would soon be relegated
to other spheres of usefulness.
2. Academical preparation must precede professional.
This arises from the nature of the case. The rationale of
no subject can be taught before the subject itself is meas-
urably understood. Neither special methods nor general
methods can be taught successfully until the pupil has a
good academic education. The 7chat must come ]:)efore the
how. Hence the effort to superinduce a professional edu-
cation for teaching upon an unorganized or ill-informed
204 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
mind must end in an ignominoiis failure. The rent in the
old garment is made worse b)^ sewing in a patch of new
cloth.
At this point great mistakes have been made, and
are still sometimes made. For example, Pestalozzi held
that a teacher who had mastered the method could teach
a branch of knowledge that he did not understand. To
me this is the pardox of educational history, since the
whole trend of Pestalozzi' s thinking was away from
mechanism and toward spirit and freedom; and I can
explain it only by referring it to that enthusiasm for a
favorite idea which sometimes runs into fanaticism. The
great Reformer's own scholarship, it will be remembered,
was slender, while he dealt almost wholly with 5'oung and
immature minds. But Pestalozzi is not the only man who
has made this mistake. The idea appears to prevail in
some quarters even now that a person can h^ fitted out with
a kit of tools that will enable him to teach, no matter
whether he knows much or not.
Teaching is bringing knowledge into due relation with
the mind. Something must be brought. In abstract
knowledge we deal with forms of thought; but teach-
ing is not a matter of form or thought-skins, of going
through motions or following rubrics. Forms stand to
thought in some siich relation as grape-skins to grapes,
and are no more nutritious. Teaching is .spreading no
Barmecide table. Then too much is often made of the
experience argument. At least experience is often mis-
understood. It is not mere number of da}s or }ears spent
in the service. Not a few teachers have I known who
were incapacitated for good teaching by their very " expe-
rience." Their minds had become circles closed to all new
ideas and inspirations and glazed over with uniformity and
self-complacency. If you start out on the wrong road, the
THE teacher's PREPARATION. 205
longer and faster you walk the farther you are from your
destination.
But if either factor nnist be slighted, which one shall
it be? Which is better, much scholarship and little
method, or little scholarship and much method? The
answer to this question cannot for a moment be held in
doubt. Both theory and experience declare for scholar-
ship. In fact, the enthusiasm of knowledge is a prime
requisite of the best teaching. Few school spectacles are
more painful than that of a poor teacher eking out slender
learning with an excess of method. The good scholar
without professional training will commonly stagger
more or less at first, but, if he have the root of the matter
in him, he will find his feet; while the teacher of an
ill-organized mind and small equipment gives little promise
of ever overcoming his limitations. The what will catch
the hozv long before the how will overtake the what. And
this is why all sound educators plead for the improvement
of the academical equipment of the teachers of the countr\-.
X.
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS.
HE Report of the Conference on History, Civil
Government, and Political Economy, made to
the Committee of Ten, is a document of forty
octavo pages, the foundation of which is com-
posed of some thirty-five resolutions that were carefully
elaborated by the distinguished scholars and teachers who
composed the Conference, while the superstructure is built
up by a careful exposition of these resolutions, and their
enforcement by appropriate arguments, the whole consti-
tuting a solid and valuable body of pedagogical doctrine.
Merely to summarize this Report and to comment on its
salient features, would perhaps hardly meet the expecta-
tions of the hour. So I shall take up the subject de novo,
making such references to the Report as will conduce to
the stronger presentation of my own ideas. I shall begin
with assigning to history its proper place in a full scheme
of education.
That expansion or growth of the human mind which
we call education, originates in the contact of the mind
itself with facts or objects of knowledge. We are not
here concerned with the speculative aspects of this sub-
ject; but we must emphasize the fact that all mental
' A paper read before the Department of Superintendence of
the National Educational Association, at Cleveland, O., February,
1895. The full caption of the paper on the programme was:
" Historj- Teaching in Schools, with some Reference to the Report
of the Conference on History to the Committee of Ten."
200
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS.
207
activity — the whole train of cognition, feeling, and will —
has its rise in the establishment of such points of contact.
Potent as the mind is, it cannot act, and so cannot make
increase, in vacuum. These facts or objects of knowledge
are divisible into three classes, the facts of Nature, the
facts of Society, and the facts of the Mind itself. These
are the primordial agents or factors of human cultivation,
as seen both in individual history and in race history. In
both spheres, they antedate teachers and schools and edu-
cation, as these terms are commonly understood. In the
attrition of the mind with natural facts, originates natural
science; in attrition with social facts, social and moral
science; and in attrition with mental facts, mental vScience.
To define the relations of these several groups of factors,
and their comparative values, is beside the present pur-
pose, except to say that, for the most part, they run side
by side through the conscious life; that their interaction is
constant and powerful, although not uniform in different
persons or in different periods of the individual life ; and
that they are all essential in something like relative
measure to a well developed mind.
These primordial agents of human cultivation are
powerfully re-enforced by a secondary group. As the
first men and women acquired experience through attri-
tion with the worlds of nature, of society, and of the
spirit, they imparted to one another what they had learned,
and thus taught one another. Ex hypothesi, up to this
time all knowledge had come from original sources;
henceforth second-hand, or derivative, knowledge, and so
tradition and authority, play their part. So we are led to
analyze the group of secondary factors. First in time and
in power, comes spoken language or oral tradition; then
follow material monuments of various kinds; next come
symbols, including the rude art of the savage, picture
208 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
writing, and the Parthenon frieze, and last of all writing
and its corollary, printing. These last factors of culti-
vation are plainly derivative; they mean nothing save as
they rest upon a previous culture. Their relations to one
another, and to the primary factors, do not here concern
us, be3'ond the observation that there has been a ten-
dency, and particularly since the invention of movable
types, to exaggerate the fourth division of the secondary
group.
Avoiding all the questions that are suggested by
the words "humanism,' "classicism," "realism," and
' 'naturalism, ' ' let us fix the location of history in the chart
of human culture. First, however, the Father of History
wrote his immortal book, as he .says, that the actions
of men might not be effaced by time, nor the wondrous
deeds of the Greeks and the Barbarians be forgotten. He
has thus defined in a general way the field of history: it
is the field of the actions or deeds of men. But what
actions or deeds does it embrace ? Shunning the various
controversies that a detailed answer would perhaps excite,
let us say that history is the story of man's more serious
and valuable experience in the most important spheres of
his activity — in politics, war, religion, art, industrial
achievement, education, scientific discovery, and moral
endeavor; and that its sources go back to every one of the
secondary agents of education — tradition, monuments,
.symbolism , and the written page . Seizing first those actions
of men that constitute the body of history, the student
rests not until he has discovered the spiritual elements out
of which these actions have sprung. History is therefore
philosophy teaching by examples. Even Froude, who
.scorned both the science and the philosophy of history,
and .said it was but a drama, admitted that it does teach
the difference between right and wrong. And when this
-: OS P' '^i Oi^i ''^'^ n
HISTORY TEACHmG^nr^KCTTOors. 209
much is said, what need be added to show its high educa-
tional vahie ? History is one of the main channels through
which the experience of the race is communicated to us;
and to ask whether it is worth while to pay attention to
what it conveys, is to ask whether it is worth while to
defer to experience at all. If it is profitable to study the
formation of crystals, the hatching of eggs, the germina-
tion and growth of seeds, and the surrounding social en-
vironment, a fortiore is it j^rofitajjle to study the evolution
of humanity from its lowest to its highest forms. As in
the lower sphere of life man cannot reach his ends when
cut off from association with men, so he cannot meet the
ends of the higher sphere when cut off from the past.
Having thus assigned to history its place in the circle
of educational agents, I do not think that it is necessar\-
to insist, point by point, that it trains the memory, stimu-
lates the imagination, furnishes guiding knowledge, and
cultivates the faculties of reason. But I would ohserve,
with Bishop Stubbs, that history is a great school of the
judgment; and all the more valuable because it deals with
moral or probable elements, or just such elements as the
pupil now encounters in the home, the school, and the
church, and just such elements as he will encounter in
the town meeting, on 'change, in legislative halls, and in
administrative ofiices. "If you would understand hi.s-
tory," said Charles Kingsley, "study men." How
desirable it is that all persons in public life, and especi-
ally educators in every sphere, .should be trained in
this great school! In any active political community, the
study of the history of asiii^r connnunity is the study of
reaUife; and it fits the .studMjLfor practical affairs in as
real a sense as work in a biold^cal laboratory fits him for
the study of animated nature.
2IO STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
The views presented are also conclusive on another
point, viz: that the subject of history should receive more
attention than at present in the schools. The only open
question is, How much more? The Conference on
History declares in resolution 1, that history and kindred
subjects should be a substantial school stud}' in each one of
eij^ht school years; in resolution 2, that this work should
be consecutive ; while the amounts of time recommended in
resolutions 14, 10, 17, to be set apart to the various divi-
sions of the subject, are not less than three forty-minute
periods throughout the eight years, or a total of about
nine hundred exercises in all. Moreover, the Conference
urges that this total shall be equally divided between the
grammar school and the high school. The Committee of
Ten, dealing with high schools only, fails to meet the
views of the Conference in both the main points. In its
model classical covirse it puts four periods a week in the
first year, three in the second year, none in the third year,
and only offers three in the fourth year as an alternative
for mathematics. In the Latin and Scientific course the
assignment is four periods the first year, none the second,
two the third, and the same alternative the fourth as in
the Classical course. These requirements the Modern
Language course merely duplicates. In the English
course history fares better. Four periods are given it in
the first 3'ear, three the second, four the third, and three
the fourth. The minimum is a total of six periods, or
about two hundred and forty exercises; the maximum
fourteen periods, or about five hundred and sixty
exercises. We need not suppose that the failure of the
Committee to meet the views of the Conference is a case
of loving Caesar less or Rome more, but a case of finding
suitable room for all the studies that it felt bound to
accommodate. The superintendent of .schools also is
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS. 211
quite certain to demand of the Conference where he is to
find time for nine hundred exercises in history. Into
these questions of detail it is less important now to enter
than it is to insist that more time shall be found for the
subject, e^'en at the cost of reducing somewhat the time
accorded to other subjects. Asked to name what subjects,
I should sa}^ — in the grammar school, arithmetic and
geography; in the high school, mathematics, language,
and phj-sical science. This, be it obser\'-ed again, in case
it is necessary.
At what stage of his school life should the pupil be
introduced to history ? The reply of the Conference is,
at the beginning of the fifth year. My own reply is, at
the beginning of the first year. On this point the practice
of the Herbartian pedagogists is in the main correct. I am
not now particular to inquire whether or not "the material
for the instruction that is to mould character should be
sought in the development of the national culture, which
is to be followed in its chief epochs ;" or whether Gesun-
jimigs-Stoff s\iovX6i. control education in its early stages;
or whether ' ' history and literature naturally constitute
the core of concentration;" or, indeed, whether, in the
Herbartian sense, there is such a core. It answers my
purpose to insist upon the introduction of history into the
first }'ear of the school, and upon its continuance to the
end thereof. Perhaps it would be difficult to arrange for
a German child a better introduction to the subject than
Ziller's double historical series, irrespective of the theo-
retical views that lie back of it. This is the series:
First year, Grimm's Fairy Tales; second year, Robinson Crusoe;
third year, (1) Bible Stories from the time of the Patriarchs, {1)
Legends of Thuringia; fourth year, (1) Bible Stories from the
time of the Judges, then of the Kings, ("2) Niebelungen Tales;
fifth year, (1) Bible Stories from the time of Christ, (2) History of
212 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
Henr}' I, Otto I, Charlemagne; sixth year, (1) Bible Stories from
the time of Christ continued, (2) Migration of the Nations, Roman
Empire and the Popes, the Crusades, the Middle Ages, Rudolf
von Hapsburg; seventh ^ear, (1) the Original Congregations of
Churches and the Apostle Paul, (2) Discovery of America and its
first settlement, history of the Reformation, the Thirty Years'
War; eighth 3'ear, (1) Instruction in the Catechism, (2) Frederick
the Great, the Napoleonic Wars for Independence, the Restoration
of the German Enipire. *
Around this core all other instruction is grouped.
One reason for making such large use of the Bible, is
the fact that Biblical history is everj-where taught in the
German schools.
When the child comes to school, at the age of six j'ears,
he is eager for stories, perhaps for the reason that their
soul is activity, of which he is so fond; stories are congru-
ous with his reading and language lessons, and wath the
books that he learns to read outside of school; while they
may be so chosen that they shall convey valuable content,
furnishing the very stuff that the child both wants and
needs. Furthermore, what is the story but a simple form
of history? Some etymological accident made "story"
by knocking a sjdlable off from "histor)-." Story and
history are but earlier and later forms of tradition, and
at first they differed only in the kind of language in
which they were told. In time history assumed a more
dignified form; but in Herodotus the early form is very
observable, while it is still common to call the masters of
historical narration great story-tellers. It is not a conceit
to say that there is a striking parallelism between the
development of historical knowledge in the individual and
the development of historical art. The child listening to
nurse's tale or old wife's fable, the child pouring over his
book of stories, full of incident and adventure, and the
1 De Garmo: Herbart and the Herbartians, pp. 119, 120.
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS, 213
child studying his book of formal history travels in a few
years that long road the three sections of which are
marked in historj' by oral tradition, by such writings as
those of Herodotus, Livy, and Froissart, and by the pro-
found works of Thucydides, Tacitus, and Polybius. ISTow
it is more than probable that the members of the Confer-
ence on History would agree to all that I am saying, with
the proviso that they do not call tales history. But I should
reply that, pedagogically speaking, there is no qualita-
tive difference between them; and that you can no more
separative the three periods in the child's life sharply than
you can separate them sharply in the history of the race.
Still, I am not sure that the Conference would meet my
views, because it makes no mention of either biography
or mythology until the beginning of the fifth school grade.
What shall be the range of the work attempted ? What
the subjects chOvSen? The Conference answers with the
following programme : ' —
First year. — Biography and mythology.
Second year.— Biography and mythology.
Third year. — American history and elements of civil govern-
ment.
'It was not mentioned in this paper, as no doubt it should have
been, that the Conference also framed an alternative six-year
course for schools which are not able to support the longer pro-
gramme, viz:
First year. — Biography and mythology.
Second year.— Biography and mythology. [In the intervening
year or years, if any, historical reading should be pursued as a
part of language study.]
Third year.— American history and civil government. [At this
point the pupil would naturally enter the high school.]
Fourth year.— Greek and Roman history, with their Oriental
connections.
Fifth year.— English history. [To l)e so taught as to elucidate
the general movement of medieval and modern history.]
Sixth year.— American history and civil government.
214 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Fourth year. — Greek and Roman history, with their Oriental
connections. [At this point the pitpil wonld naturally enter the
high school.]
Fifth year. — French history. [To be so taught as to elucidate
the general movement of medieval and modern history.]
Sixth year. — English history. [To be so taught as to elucidate
the general movement of medieval and modern history.]
Seventh year. — American historj-.
Eighth year. — A special period, studied in an intensive manner,
and civil government.
Before commenting on this scheme, I wish to present the
one that is followed in the elementary schools of Baden,
Germany: —
First year (third grade). Historical tales related by the teacher
and repeated by the pupils several times.
Second and third years (fourth and fifth grades). Historical
tales continued, their number augmented. Brief outline of the
historj' of the village or town and the district, the latter connected
with the geography of the district. Short biographies of national
heroes.
Fourth year (sixth grade). Brief outline of Grecian and Roman
history. Several parts dealt with in a more detailed way; e. g., the
Persian wars. Alexander the Great, the wars between the Romans
and Germans, the invasion of the Barbarians. Historical com-
positions embracing both biographies and tales. Historical essays
in the reading-book, read and explained.
Fifth year (seventh grade). History of the Middle Ages in
Germany, dealt with in the same waj- as the ancient history in the
fourth year. Much stress laid upon the Crusades and the end of the
Middle Ages. Historical tales, biographies, essays in the reading-
book as in the fourth year.
Sixth year (eighth grade). Modern times, especially in Ger-
many. History of the Thirty Years' War, the Seven Years' War,
the wars against Napoleon, and the war of 1870-71 dealt with in a
complete manner. History of France from 1648 to 181'), chiefly
the French Revolution, Tales, biographies, essays continued;
longer compositions (the pupils') than previously.
In teaching history, no text-book is used; only oral instruction
by the teacher, and a few notes taken by the pupils.
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS.
215
This programme suggests one important point of differ-
ence between German and American history. Germany
has long lain directly in the main stream of the world-
movement, while America from the beginning has lain
outside of this stream. German history is primarily a
part of general history, while American history is such
only in a secondary degree. The German pupil estab-
lishes his historical connections with the world-movement
directly, the American pupil only by the way of England.
Then, historically, as well as geographically, the German
is much nearer to Greece and Rome. To a great extent the
German's study of Italy or France is a study of Germany
itself, but in our case this is true only to a limited degree.
The result is that the German pupil makes the transition
from national history to general history far more easily
than the American. This view of the subject is little
likely to be questioned. It is here presented as a reason
for questioning the wisdom of introducing Greek and
Roman history, with their Oriental connections, at least
as a formal study, into the grammar school. It must be
remembered that the typical pupil of fourteen years of
age is not very mature in mind. Besides, it may well be
doubted also whether, if foreign history is to be intro-
duced into the grammar school, it would not be better to
introduce portions of English history. I cannot think
the German example at this point is a safe one to follow.
But while I have serious doubts about the formal study of
Greece and Rome at this stage of progress, I have none
whatever about bringing in, not merely the fable, the
myth, and the legend found in Homer and \^irgil, but
also the biographies of the Grecian and Roman heroes and
sages. Can we not rehabilitate Plutarch, and if we can,
would it not be worth more to our youth than such formal
study of Grecian and Roman history as would be possi-
2l6 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ble, no matter whether he goes to the high school or at
once to acti\-e life ?
It should be observed, also, that the German programme
says nothing directl>' about the Orient, and that the
American programme onl}- mentions its connections with
Greece and Rome. To be sure, nobody knows very
definitely what their earl}- "connections" were, but I
assume that the Conference would not go back of the great
struggle between Persia and Greece. Everybody should
have a general knowledge of the Hebrew Bible; but
be3'ond this we should not, in general education, concern
ourselves with Asia until we reach the epoch across
which are written in letters of light the names Marathon,
Thermopylae, Salamis, Platea. For practical purposes,
outside of religion, we may regard general history as
beginning with Greece- Whatever one may think of
some of Dr. Freeman's historical theories, he will hardly
dissent from these words in respect to Greece:
The Greeks, with their man^' small states, were the first
people from whom we can learn any lessons in the art of politics,
the art of ruling and pursuing men according to law. The little
commonwealths of Greece were the first states at once free and
civilized which the world ever saw. They were the first states
which gave birth to great statesmen, orators, and generals, who
did great deeds, and to great historians, who set down those great
deeds in writing. It was in the Greek commonwealths, in short,
that the political and intellectual life of the world began *
Or from these words in respect to Rome :
The nations which have stood out foremost among all have
been the Greeks, the Romans, and the Teutons. And among
the.se it is the Romans who formed the center of the whole storj-.
Rome alone founded a universal empire, in which all earlier
hi-stor}- loses itself and out of which all later history grew.-
^ General Sketch of History, pp 21, 22.
'■'Ibid, pp. If), 17.
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS, 21 7
On otie point tliat the Conference has touched, I wish
to utter no uncertain sound. The "acquirements of a
body of useful facts" is pronounced "the most difficult
and the least important outcome of historical study."
The principal end of history in the schools, as of all
education, is declared to be the training of the mind. To
these expressions, properly understood, there can be no
rational objection. Still, the}- seem to ring of the venerable
dogma of formal discipline. The}' seem almost to suggest
that profitable historical stud}- can be carried on without
the acquirement of a body of useful facts. While it is
true that the acquisition of facts and real mental training
are not necessarily measures each of the other, still they
cannot be wholly separated, and in good teaching they
are not separated at all. The mind cannot be disciplined
by nothing; it works only as it works upon something.
For one, I stand much in fear that the facts taught
in the schools will not be well chosen, and that they will
not be well taught ; but, waiving these two points, I have
no fear that too many facts will be taught, unless, indeed,
the subject is allowed to encroach upon other subjects. To
suppose that too many facts will be taught, is to suppose
that too much history will be taught. However, I have no
good word to say for the old-fashioned memoriter method,
and cheerfully grant that the facts are only a means to
an end.
At this point I wish to read, with some comments of
my own, a statement recently made by Professor H.
Morse Stephens, who came the last year from Oxford to
teach European history at Cornell University.
Professor Morse Stephens, Cornell's new Professor of Euro-
pean History from Oxford, has made some interesting compari-
sons between English and American college students. He con-
cludes that the average American undergraduate takes a more
2l8 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
comprehensive view of history, has a better grasp of its essential
facts, and surpasses his English cousin of corresponding grade in
power of generalization; but the American student is lamentably
deficient in his knowledge of details and also writes very poor
Knglish. Professor Stephens thought the essays written by his
undergraduate students at Cornell Avere on the whole better than
similar essays written b}* English students at Cambridge, although
he sharply criticised the spelling, grammar, and generally care-
less style of the Americans. When, however, he set his Ameri-
can students an examination of twenty questions concerning
dates and places, he was overwhelmed by the lack of knowledge
of facts displa^'ed in the answers. More than half of the class
failed to pass the examination, the average percentage being
abovit 40, and as a rule the students who wrote the best essays
handed in the poorest examination papers. *
Competent judges are not likel}' to question the general
accuracy of this interesting statement. The explanation
of the facts stated is found mainly in the aims of English
and American education, and in the methods of instruc-
tions that are employed, particularly in the secondar>-
schools. First, English teachers lean more on lectures,
or other oral instruction, and so on writing and note-
books; American teachers, more on oral recitations and
on general sunnnaries. One result is that the English
boy is trained to spell and write better, and to use more
correct English, than the American boy. The one is
methodical and correct in form where the other is dis-
cursive and slip-shod. But, .secondly, the American
pupil's peculiar discipline gives him comprehensive views
of a .subject, a better gra.sp of large facts, and a consid-
erable mastery of generalizations, which have their
unhappy compen.sation in a deficient knowledge of details,
as well as a defective use of English. The American
pupil is certainly not strong in names and places. The
natural tendency of the recitation method is here rein-
> The Dial, January Ifi, ISp.'^.
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS.
219
forced by the very common disposition on the part of
teachers to disparage details. A mere fact ! only a date !
is the contemptuous phrase with which the careless or
ignorant teacher often dismisses one of those little
things that constitute the very staple of history. In some
quarters it has actually come to be a fashion to disparage
the man of large information, of full knowledge, regard-
ing him merely as a patient drudge. It is now common
to berate the schools for teaching too many facts. Facts
may possibly be badly taught in the schools, or they may
be ill chosen; it is not true, however, that American
pupils are strong in facts, but the contrary. In the third
place, there can be no doubt that the typical English boy
who conies up to the University has received a more reg-
ular, a more systematic, and a more thorough training than
the typical American bo}'. Of its kind, he has been taught
in a better school. Once more, it is an old .saying that
the English mind runs to details rather than to general
views and philosophical principles. Such is the con.stant
charge of the French and German critics. While there
can be no dovibt that the English mind handles an
enormous amount of fact-material, it may still be doubted
whether Englishmen are remarkable for a nice accuracy in
their facts. There is reason to think the contrar3\ The
question whether the American student, with his good
essay and poor examination paper, is better or worse oif
than the English student, with his good examination
paper and poor essay, is a question that will not here be
considered; the truth is that measurable excellence should
be obtained in both exercises.
Perhaps no part of the Report of the Conference has
provoked more criticisms than the recommendation in
respect to the intensive study of some period of history.
220 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
or some historical subject. It will have been observed
that such study is found in the schools of Baden. The
recommendation seems to me a good one, provided time
can be found to do the work, and provided the phrase
"intensive study" be understood in a sense sufficiently
limited or relative.
Worthy of all praise are the remarks that both the
Conference and the Committee of Ten have offered on
the importance of saving time through the better co-ordi-
nation of subjects. Without entering upon the general
merits of the doctrine of Concentration, about which we
are now hearing so much, I wish to say that instruction
in history, in language and composition, in geography
and ci\'il government, can be so organized as at once to
save time and to secure better results than at present.
These subjects are as congruous as any subjects found in
the curriculum, and are as capable of close articulation.
It is not necessar}' to go with Dr. Freeman in declaring
that the fields of politics and liistor}- are co-extensive, in
order to find firm ground on which to rest the teaching of
civil government in the schools. I quote with entire
approval resolutions 28 and 29 adopted by the Conference:
That Civil Government in the grammar schools should be
taught by oral lessons, with the use of collateral text-books, and
in connection with U. S. History and local geography.
That Civil Government in the high schools should be taught
by using a text-book as a basis, with collateral reading and topical
work, and observation and instruction in the government of the
city or town and state in which the pupils live, and with compari-
sons between American and foreign systems of goverment.
This direct observation and sttidy of the government of
the city, town, and state is equally important, and even
more important, in grammar .schools; foreign systems of
government, for tlie most part, and certainly comparisons
HISTORY TEACHING IN SCHOOLS. 221
between them and our own systems, should be deferred
to the high school.
The Report closes with the recommendation that only
teachers who have had adequate special training shall be
employed to teach history and related subjects. To the
obvious objection that such teachers are not to be found
in numbers sufficient to cany out the programme in the
schools of the country, the Conference would probably
reply that the teachers can be provided as rapidly as the
schools can be put in shape to receive them.
The present subject, as well as .several others on the
programme, has been immediatel}' suggested by the dis-
cussion that has been going on the last three or four 3'ears
relative to secondary education. In this discussion the
central questions have been. What studies shall form the
staple of such education? and, In what order and pro-
portion shall they be combined ? Upon only one phase
of the general subject do I wish to comment. Causes
that are here wholly irrelevant imposed upon the nations
of modern Europe a foreign culture conveyed in foreign
tongues. The ancient classics became, not merely a de-
partment of study, but practically the field of study.
The fact was most anomalous. The ancient Jews, who
certainly proved themselves a tough and enduring nation,
knew no literature and no history outside of their incom-
parable Scriptures, which were to them a national litera-
ture in the best sense of the term, and not merely a book
of religion. The Greeks, who were the ablest race
intellectually that the world has seen, were nourished
exclusively upon a national vernacular culture. Even
the estabhshment of the Greek arts in Rome following
the conquest of Greece, fell far short of the establish-
ment of the Classical Tradition in breadth and permanency
222 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
of influence. In recent times the power of this tradition
has been broken; it is no longer considered necessary that
an educated man shall study Greek, or even Latin, Into
the general merits of the question, I do not propose to go.
It is unmistakable that there has been a strong drift
towards modern studies. Has this drift reached its limit ?
I cannot think so. While the old humanities will never
l)e banished from the schools, they can hardly continue
to hold relatively even the diminished place that they now
occupy. Modern studies, and particularly vernacular
studies, will encroach upon them still more. This fact
has been very apparent in the discussions of the last three
years. Moreover, it cannot be reasonably doubted that,
in the future, increased emphasis will be laid upon the
national history and literature as means of forming the
national mind and character.
XL
THE MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAIN-
ING OF CHILDREN.'
IF the various contributions that have been
made to the theory of education in recent
years, the doctrine of apperception is perhaps
the most important. This idea was first
applied to philosophy by I,eibnitz, but its germ is found
in one of the works of Aristotle." From the time when
men first began to take note of their own thought-pro-
cesses, some of them, at least, must have seen more or
less clearly that we look at the world through ourselves,
and that what we see, and what we learn, depends in
great part upon what we already know and are. The
idea is not therefore really new. Still the German peda-
gogist Herbart and his disciples have analyzed it so
much more thoroughly, have defined it so much better,
and especially have applied it to practice so much more
fully, that it seems to us almost a new revelation.
The word "apperceive" is derived from ad, to, and per-
cepere, to grasp or to clasp. It literally signifies the
^ An address delivered before the Ohio Christian Missionary
Society, Columbus, 0.,May, 1895.
2 "All teaching and learning by \vay of inference proceed from
pre-existent knowledge. Of this we may be satisfied by examina-
tion of instances: it is thus that the mathematical sciences and the
arts are acquired; the dialectician's induction and syllogism
both appeal to previous knowledge, the one of the phenomenon,
the other of the law: and the orator persuades by example and
enthymeme, the one a kind of induction, the other of syllogism."
— The Posterior Analytics. Poste's translation.
233
224 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
grasping or clasping of one thing to another, a uniting,
adhesive process. But the Latin verb also means to see
ox perceive; so that, taken figuratively, apperceive means
to see or perceive one thing by 7vay of another, or the coales-
cence of a new idea with an old one by modification. As
now used by pedagogical writers, the stress is thrown
upon the element of modification. One distinguished
writer says apperception is ' 'that psychological activity
b}^ which individual perceptions, ideas, or idea-complexes
are brought into relation to our previous intellectual and
emotional life, assimilated with it and thus raised
to greater clearness, activity, and significance."^ A
second writer, entering into more detail, says that to
explain apperception we must contrast it with perception.
"'\vi perception we have an object presented to our senses,
but in apperception we identify the object or those features
of it which were familiar to us before; we recognize it;
we explain it; we interpret the new by our previous
knowledge, and thus are enabled to proceed from the
known to the unknown and make new acquisitions; in
recognizing the object we classify it under various general
classes; in identifying it with what we have seen before,
we note also differences which characterize the new object
and lead to the definition of new species or varieties.
. By it we re-enforce the perception of the present
moment by the aggregate of our own past sense-percep-
tion, and by all that we have learned of the experience
of mankind."^
Viewing the subject thus, we see that the mind is not
something that is inert and dead; not a sheet of blank
paper upon which you may write what you plea.se; not a
'Dr. Ivange: Apperception, p. 41.
2 Dr. W. T. Harris: A Text-Book in Psychology, by J. F. Her-
bart. Trauslatcd by Margaret Smith. Editor's Preface.
MORAL AXU RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 225
ball of clay or wax to be moulded into any form, but that
it is rather a self-active principle or energy. It will also
be seen at once that the processes of learning and teach-
ing are not to be compared to the operations of a machine,
but rather to the vital processes of vegetable and animal
life. An idea touches a new object and changes it into
its own nature; or, perhaps it would be better to say, a
new object is set like a .scion in the stock of an old idea
and, through assimilation, becomes an idea it.self. It is
only the "engrafted word" that is able to .save the
soul.
Some simple illustrations will make these general pro-
positions fully intelligible. A young child calls ever}-
man "papa," ever}^ woman "mamma," and attributes to
them the same qualities that he has discovered in his
father and mother. He .says his broken cart is ' 'naughty' '
becau.se it will not run, and, a.s.suming that it has life and
feeling like himself, proceeds to beat it. He feeds his
big toe with a spoon. One child seeing a picture of a
.serpent called it a tail ; a second called a swan that he
saw .swimming in the water a fish; a third, brought up in
the South, called snow-flakes when he first .saw them
butterflies; while of two other children who .stood looking
at a pair of mules, one called them horses and the other
rabbits. Children of a larger growth do the .same thing,
only they learn to be more wary in expressing their first
ideas. When the Romans first .saw elephants they called
them Lucanian oxen. Tlie man who has mo.st ideas has
most centers of assimilation, and .so can learn mo.st rapidly.
A botanist sees a hundred things in a pond of water that
are hidden from the clown; an old traveler is the man
who finds most in a new country; while only a scholar
discovers much in a library. Accordingly, it is not .strange
but as natural as natural can be that a conversation, a
226 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
sermon, or a book is a different thing to different per-
sons. "What can we see or acquire," asks Emerson,
"but what we are? You have seen a skillful man read-
ing Virgil. Well, that author is a thousand books to a
thousand persons. Take the book into your own hands, and
read your eyes out; you will never find what I find. If
any ingenious reader would have a monopoly of the wis-
dom or the light he gets, he is as secure, now that the
book is Englished, as if it were imprisoned in thePelew's
tongue. ' '
Thus far the argument has turned on sensible objects.
But it may turn on objects that are not sensible. The
images that we first form of mental facts — our primal
notions of spiritual things; our early views of men and
life; our original opinions about subjects, — these tend to
change the facts of our later experience into their own
image. The mind is subdued to its material and moral
environment. A late writer has said in dealing with a
famous French woman who lived at the beginning of this
century :
Our earliest impressions of the external world become,
imconsciously to us, the prism b}' which everything is afterward
colored. With Chateaubriand, it was the gloomy solitudes of
Combourg, the heavy mists, skirting the ocean and bounded oul}-
by the forests through which the storm- winds whistled. With
Lamartine, it was the hills of Milly, a country home with quiet
neighboring paths, a soft and filmy sky, a dim and fleeting
horizon, a pious childhood at a Christian mother's knee. With
]\Iadame de Stael, it was in private life the scenes of a happy
home, and in public those of a salon which was the meeting-place
of the best intellects of the time, — where jest and inspiration
followed each in turn; where all literary questions and all the
problems of the universe were discussed, and where, as a contem-
porary has remarked, they discoursed endlessly upon "the great
truths of Nature, the immortality of the soul, the love of liberty,
and the charms and dangers of the pas,sions." A house like her
MORAL AXD RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 227
parents' was ahvaj's her ideal of home; happiness in marriage
was her Utopia, and to reign over a salon was the ambition of her
Hfe.t
From what lias been said some very important practical
conclusions flow-
One is that present ignorance is a bar to future intelli-
gence. Paradoxical as it may sound, a man may be so
ignorant that he cannot learn, or at least can learn but
little. It is related that a band of Esquimaux walked
through the streets of I^ondon utterly indifferent to their
surroundings. " The explanation," observes the writer
who furnishes the incident, "is simple. These inhabi-
tants of the frozen North had no store of related predicates
with which to interpret the wonders about them. We
have no interest in that for which we have no under-
standing, no related concepts."^
A second conclusion is that one's present ideas and
feelings, in addition to stimulating his mental activit}',
also tend to shape its character. The idea that a child
has formed of an object becomes a standard b>- which he
compares and measures a new object, and particularl}- a
similar object, that is presented to his mind; while the
feeling that he has associated with one object attaches to
a new object that resembles the former one. Thus the
mind, reacting upon environment, forces upon it its own
view or nature. In so far as the two objects are alike,
the identification is correct and helpful; in so far as the\'
are unlike, it is false and misleading. Still the child
gains more than he looses; if he were robbed of the power
of interpreting things through classification, and were com-
pelled to begin again at the beginning with each new experi-
ence, his growth in knowledge would be extremely slow.
1 Sorel: Madame de Siael, p. 7.
2 DeGarmo: Essentials of Method, p. 30.
228 STUDIES IN EDUCATION'.
A third conclusion is that the child should learn through
experience to correct the false interpretations that he
tends to force upon surrounding objects. To-day he will
promptly call a snake a tail or a mule a rabbit, but
to-morrow he will hesitate, will wait for a fuller view of
the new object, and so protect himself against his own
first impression. The laughter that his classifications
excite tends to put him upon his guard. This is why
adults are slower than children to refer new experiences
to the old familiar classes. To promote such hesitation
— that is, somewhat to check the apperceiving process —
is a great matter in education.
Still when all has been done that is possible, this door-
way through which so many errors enter a man's mind can
never be closed. His mind may be virgin at first, but
it soon loses its virginity. His ideas, opinions, and feelings
are lenses through which he sees ever3'thing about him.
He may accept theoretically the warning of the moralist
to judge his fellowmen as they are, and of the preacher
to read the Bible as it is; but practically he looks at men
and Bible alike through his mental and moral attainments;
that is, through the sum-total of his culture. He sees
through a glass darkly, not face to face. What we
call bias and prejudice are not always, or perhaps com-
monly, a state of the feelings merely, and they are
not directly subject to the will. Struggle as he may, a
man cannot get away from himself. In respect to opinion
and faith, he can no more throw off his former mental
habits suddenly than he can cast out his bodily humors.
All that he can do is to turn new facets of his mind to the
subject, to view it under new aspects, to search forbidden
points of contact, to discover grounds of agreement that
at first are not apparent. And this, no doubt, is a great
deal. Here appears the advantage that the man of wide
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 229
knowledge, full experience, and sympathetic spirit has
over the man who is without these qualities; he is more
cautious in making up his mind, and is more likely to
discover truth, beauty, and goodness. The old conception
of a liberal education was, that through it isolation of the
spirit is broken down and mental freedom established.
Such education is called liberal, perhaps because it frees
or tends to free the mind from its own ignorance and
narrowness. Something, of course, depends upon the
original or positive character of the individual. vSome
minds are more responsive to environment than others;
some have more and some less power to protect them-
selves against the errors and mistakes that root in the
personality.
Still a fourth conclusion is that teaching may be too
thorough, that instruction may be overdone. Remember
that we are dealing now with the young mind, which
should not be cribbed and confined in a narrow cell
of habits, but should acquire range as well as intensit>-
of view. Than this, no stronger argument for wise
teaching can be brought forward. Subject to inheritance,
the teacher holds the child'smind in the hollow of his hand.
The physiological psychologists have their peculiar expla-
nation of the main fact that has been set forth. That in-
tensified form of mental activity which we call appercep-
tion is the result, they tell us, of the energizing and cor-
relation of the nerves or the brain-tracts, and this is prob-
ably enough. But no matter what the explanation may
be, the plain fact, while it has its unpleasant aspect, is
still the pledge of all force and persistence in human char-
acter.
Once more, the moral or religious teacher will find in
apperception the key to many perplexing questions. In
grace, as in nature, the mind cannot respond to what it
230 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
does not in kind alread}' have. God made his first reve-
lation to man when He ga\-e him his mental and ethical
being; that is, created man in His own image; and the
highest test of the value of the Scriptures is the fact that
they touch this primal revelation at so man}- points. The
very assumption that God revealed Himself, or that He
could reveal Himself, to a being in whom He did not al-
ready implicitly exist, is a great absurdit}'. A nervedoes
not respond to light or sound unless it is sensitive to it by
nature. Beautiful pictures do not appeal to the man who
has no eyes, or fine music to him who has no experience
of sweet sounds; and no more do spiritual lessons awaken
a response in the soul of him who has no piety in his heart
or purity in his life. Wordsworth wrote:
Imagination needs must stir . . .
Minds that have nothin.£^ to confer
Find little to perceive.
And Coleridge:
Dear lady, we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does nature live.
It should not be thought strange therefore that opinion
and faith, especially when we take large numbers of men
together, change but slowly. The truth is that the so-
called great and rapid changes are alwa}-s preceded by
some sort of a preparation. Historians are constantly re-
marking the influence of old systems of thought upon
new ones. How persistently the twelve Apostles read
Jesus through their Jewish ideas and feelings! How
slowly did they grope their way out of themselves! The
differences of Jewish, Greek, and Latin Christianity,
which are .so observable, originated in the Levitical ideas
of the Jewi.sh mind, the philo.sophical ideas of the Greek
mind, and the juridical ideas of the Roman mind.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN, 23 1
But it is time to draw nearer to our special subject,
although in fact we have not been far from it at any
time. A man's religion largely determines his relations
to this life, and it wholly determines his relations to the
life that is to come. It gives him his ethical ideal and
supplies him motives. Carlyle once said that a man's
religion is the chief fact with regard to him. Hence the
question of religious training is one of supreme interest
and importance.
All that has been said of the secular mind is equally
true in principle of the spiritual mind. It may well
be true that material things have no original power to
generate spiritual ideas and feelings, but that such ideas
and feelings must proceed from spiritual things. It may
well be that, as natural knowledge originates in the con-
tact of the mind with natural realities, so spiritual knowl-
edge originates in its contact with moral and religious
realities. There can be no doubt that considerable refine-
ment and subtlety of thought is required to find
Tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything;
or to feel that
The meanest flower that blows, can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
Still spiritual knowledge and feeling have a humble pater-
nity. We may say that religion moves at different times
in three spheres.
The first is the nature -sphere. The feelings of won-
der, mystery, awe, sublimity, solemnity, and grandeur
that spring from communion with nature are the raw ma-
terial out of which the religious feelings that bear the
same names are formed. The abundant use that the Tes-
taments make of natural objects and scenes to create spir-
232 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
itual thought and feehng, is most significant. ' ' Howbeit,
that was not first which is spiritual, but that which is
natural; and afterward that which is spiritual." The
second sphere is that of man and society. It is in per-
sonal contact with his nurses, parents, brothers and sis-
ters, and mates, that the child's first conceptions of
obedience, law, rule, authority, justice, truth, reverence,
sympath}^ piety, mercy, purity, spring up, and that the
fountains of moral feeling are unsealed. Moreover, it is
in similar commerce with men and women of the world
that these conceptions are developed and the channels of
these feelings deepened. The last sphere is the God-
sphere. The moral ideas and feelings are common to
both ethics and religion; while they do not always cul-
minate in a large religious development, they are never-
theless essential to the religious ideas and feelings.
vStrengthened, clarified, and adjusted to God as a center,
they constitute religion. It will throw light upon the
growth of religious ideas to sketch the growth of moral
and civic ideas more fully.
As remarked, it is in the family, in personal contact
with its members, that the child forms the habits of obe-
dience and deference to others. It is here that he learns,
in a rudimentary and experimental way, that he is a part
of a social whole. Here he acquires the ideas to which
we give the names obedience, azdhority, government, and
the like. His father (if we may unify the family govern-
ment) is his first ruler, and his father's word his first law.
Legislative, executive, and judicial functions are centered
in a single person. These early habits and ideas are the
foundations of the child's whole future education in gov-
ernment, both practical and theoretical. His future con-
ception of the governor, president, king, or emperor is
developed on the basis of the idea of father; his con-
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN.
233
ception of society on the basis of the idea of home; his
conception of government by the state on the basis of fam-
ily government. Only these early habits and ideas are
expanded, strengthened, and adjusted to new centers.
While still young the child goes to school. On the
governmental side this is but a repetition of the home.
It is the doctrine of the law that the teacher takes the
place of the parent; in loco parentis. The new jurisdic-
tion may be narrower than the old one, but it is of the
same kind. The education of the school re-enforces the
education of the home in respect to this all-important
.subject. The habits of obedience and deference are
strengthened. The child's social world is enlarged. At
first he thought, or rather felt, that he was alone in the
world; then he learned that he must adjust himself to the
family circle; now he discovers that he is a member of a
still larger community, and that he must conduct himself
accordingly. The ideas of authority, obedience, and law
are expanded and clarified.
About the time that the child goes to .school he begins
to take practical lessons in civil government. This also is
developed on the basis of his previous home-training. It
begins at the very door-step. The letter-carrier, the
poHceman, the justice of the peace, and the postmaster
introduce him to the government of the outer world. Some
or all of these officers he sees or knows, and others he
hears about. The very mail wagon that rattles along the
street teaches its lesson, and so do the other symbols ot
authority that confront him. He attends an election and
hears about the caucus. As he grows older, the town
council, the court of the local magistrate, and the consta-
ble or sheriff teach him the meaning of the three great
branches of government. His ears as well as his eyes are
open. Politics is the theme of much familiar conversation
234 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
to which he listens. With all the rest, he reads the
newspaper, and so enlarges his store of political informa-
tion.
Still other agencies contribute to the grand result. The
church, public meetings, societies of various kinds, all
teach lessons of order and discipline.
Such, in general, are the steps by which the child
makes his wa)^ out of the world of isolation and selfish-
ness into the world of social activity and light. Such is
the character of his early education in morals and prac-
tical civics. Nor is it easy to overestimate these earl}-
lessons. To suppose that the child's political education
begins with reading the Constitution of the United States,
is like supposing that his moral education begins when
he is first able to follow the preacher's sermon.
At first, man is thoroughly individual and egoistical :
The human baby is as selfish as the cub of the bear or
fox. He is the most exacting tyrant in the world. No
matter at what cost, his wants must be supplied. Such
is his primary nature. But this selfish creature is endowed
with a higher, an ideal nature. At fir.st he knows only
rights, and these he greatly magnifies; but, progressively,
he learns, what no mere animal can learn, to curb his
appetites, desires, and feelings, and to regard the rights,
interests, and feelings of others. In other words,
the human being is capable of learning his relations
to the great social body of which he is a member.
Mere individualism, mere egoism, is compelled to rec-
ognize the force and value of altruistic conviction
and sentiment. And this lesson, save alone his relations
to the Supreme Being, is the greatest lesson that man
ever learns. Moreover, the two lessons are closely con-
nected.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 235
Filial piety in the home is a preparation for piety
toward God. Fraternal love in the famil}^ comes before
fraternal love in the church and in the world. The super-
natural is builded upon the natural, the Divine upon the
human. "Whoso hath this world's goods, and seeth his
brother have need, and shutteth up his bowels of com-
passion from him, how dwelleth the love of God in him?"
" If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is
a liar; for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath
seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?"
And so with the other spiritual qualities. How can a
man who despises or contemns his father reverence God
and obey Him ? The method of religion is from the
seen to the unseen, from the known to the unknown.
But that is not all. It is no impiety to say that a
man's first God is his father, his first heaven his home;
and if that father has been impure or cruel, or that home
unhappy, the phrases "Father in heaven" and "the
Father's house " lose much of their meaning and beauty.
The fact is that we are quite incapable of estimating how
far our religious ideas, feelings, and character have been
shaped by the character of the homes in which we were
reared. In so saying, formal religious instruction is left
altogether out of the account. Indeed, we tend to ex-
aggerate the value of such instruction as compared with
the stream of unconscious influence that constantly flows
into the life.
Rousseau urged that, previous to his sixteenth year,
the child should receive no formal rehgious instruction
whatever. He gave as a reason that before such time
the child would misconceive and distort all religious ideas
that were presented to him. " Let us refrain," he says.
' ' from announcing the truth to those who are not in a
condition to understand it, for this is equivalent to sub-
236 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
stituting error for it. It would be much better to have
no idea of the Divinity, than to have ideas which are low,
fanciful, wrongful, or unworthy of Him. Not to know
the Divinity is a lesser evil than to have unworthy con-
ceptions of Him."^ Now it is impossible to deny that
the young child is as superstitious as a savage, or that he
is a natural idolater. But there are two objections to
Rousseau' s reasoning. The first is that you cannot keep the
child away from religion if you would. His imagination,
working on the mysteries about him, will create its own
Olympus or Asgard. Still further, no matter how long
religious teaching may be deferred, error and distortion
of views cannot be avoided. Every man is for a time a
devotee of superstition; he may pass out of it into a
rational religion, he may fall into mere negation or no-
religion, or he may remain superstitious, as most men do
in some degree, to the end of his life. Accordingly, the
ideal is not a denial of religious instruction, but such
instruction wisely administered. We must remember the
principle laid down by the Apo.stle : ' ' When I was a
child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I
thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put
away childish things. ' '
Still Rousseau's counsel cannot be wholly thrown aside.
There is a valuable truth in the doctrine of negative
instruction, and it is a pity that he so exaggerated it.
Let the child's mind work freely upon his moral environ-
ment, only take pains to shield him in his weakness
against the false, hateful, and vile. Religious ideas and
feelings should be left to develop naturally and should
not be forced. Remember the silent influences of the
home, which fall into the young soul with power more
penetrating, more persuasive, more lasting, than Italian
~~ * Emile, p. 230. Translated by W. II. Payne.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TKAIXING OF CHILUKEN. 237
suns or Scandinavian snows. Unhappy the child who
learns at home to read the world through clouds of sorrow,
mists of prejudice, or flashes of passion ! Happy the child
wdio learns to read it through the clear sunshine of
wisdom, truth, and goodness !
What has been said of the home in respect to uncon-
scious influence, applies in a measure to the school and
the church. If they are what they ought to be, their
indirect influence and effect will be great. The formal
or external observances of religion play their part. Prayer,
music, and the ordinances are clothed with spiritual sen-
timents by children too young to understand their deeper
import; and the influence of symbols over immature
minds is such that these observances are sometimes the
last fastness of expiring religious faith and feeling. Again,
the relation of the ethical and esthetical elements of wor-
ship, public or private, should not be disregarded.
But negative instruction will not sufiice; there must be
positive teaching. At this point two or three words of
admonition should be spoken.
The first of these words is that formal spiritual teaching
should not be unduly hastened. The reasons for this
admonition have been once given, and need not be re-
peated. It is far more important to look after the child's
conduct, and to adjust his environment as maybe needed,
than it is to teach him didactic les.sons.
The second word is that the lessons, when they come,
should be wisely chosen. Let them be such as will fortify
and strengthen the child for the work of life. The parent
or teacher should be upon his guard against dogma. First,
it is to be considered that the ethical value of dogma is
small. Dogma appeals to the logical faculty, not to the
heart; it coalesces with the scientific, not with the
238 STUDIES IN EDUCATION".
practical elements of the mind, and therefore fails to
touch the springs of moral life and action. Simple is the
intellectual apparatus directh' correlated with virtue.
Few are the doctrines immediately productive of good con-
duct. Remote indeed from life are many of the deliver-
ances of the pulpit. But, more than this, dogma is often
extremely harmful. Sometimes it is at variance with the
facts of moral experience; sometimes it is a screen for a
bad life; and often it becomes a burden.
Thinking m.en feel the need of some scheme of religious
truth, but 3'oung children have no such need, and are
rather harmed by such a scheme. A system of theological
doctrines may be so welded upon the mind by teachers —
apperception may do its work so thoroughly — that the
child, when he becomes a man, can no more throw it off
than a tortoise can cast away its shell. Besides, in cases
where the system, less thoroughly riveted, is broken to
pieces and thrown away, it is often at the cost of spiritual
dislocations that cause great unhappiness and that some-
times end in complete religious wreck. Happy the Man
of the Iron Mask in comparison with him who is spir-
itually shackled by a dogmatic system ! The cries of re-
ligious despair, the wails of those who conceive them-
selves to be lost, the blindness of imprisoned spirits,
resulting from dogmatic teaching — these things should
convince us that great wisdom is needed in conducting
the religious training of children. It is by no means clear
that the Canaanites who passed their children through the
fire to Moloch,were more cruel than Christian parents who
immolate their tender offspring upon the altar of a hard
and hopeless theology. If there is any one thing that
would cau.se Him who put His hands upon the little
children and blessed them, to seize again the knotted
scourge with which He drove the money-changers from
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 239
the Temple, it must be the sight of Christian parents and
teachers binding the souls of helpless infants and youth
with the thongs of dogma, or pouring into them the
poison of sectarian bigotry, envy, and hatred.
It may be thought that this last admonition relates to
a state of things that has passed away. Happily this is
true in part. Still, that state of things is far from ob.solete,
and the admonition is neither outgrown nor likely to be
outgrown. In particular should parents and teachers be
careful how they teach religion to children of sensi-
tive temperament and active imagination.
I have remarked already that the intellectual apparatus
which directly affects the spiritual life is simple. No doubt
many facts and ideas affect it indirectly, and in the long
run; but the religious lessons that need to be taught to
children, and especially to j-oung children, are few in
number. The wisdom, purity, and goodness of God; the
love of Jesus, the capacity of men for growth and happi-
ness, and the duty to seek those ends; wisdom, purity,
forebearance, justice, magnanimity, truth, and goodness;
men reap what the}' sow — these ideas lie at the basis of
the moral life. The great care of the parent or the teacher
should be to commit the child to virtue and piety, and to
leave theolog}- to the future man or woman.
The creation of right habits, the proper development
and regulation of the appetites, desires, and feelings, and
the implantation of sound principles are all embraced in
ethical cultivation; they are inteitwined and mutually de-
pendent; still, there is a constant tendency to exaggerate
the value of the didactic element. It is far from true that
habits, feelings, and ideas are always measures one of
another. A severe character does not always go with a
severe creed, and a liberal spirit is not always associated
with liberal opinions.
240 STUDIES IN' EDUCATION,
Material for spiritual instruction adapted to the needs
of the child exists in greatest abundance. The Bible does
not contain it all, but it contains the cream. Still, it
should not be taught to children indiscriminately. The
Bible is pre-eminently a book to be used with judgment.
The interest of much of it is historical, not unlike the
interest that attaches to the laws of the Ten Tables.
There are whole chapters which are as lacking in spiritual
content as Homer's list of the Grecian ships and heroes
that went to the siege of Troy. Portions of the Old Testa-
ment certainly suggest, if they do not inculcate, a moralit\-
that is outgrown, while other portions move in an environ-
ment so unlike modern life that they do not interest
untaught minds. While the New Testament is in gen-
eral superior to the Old, still it is not throughout of equal
spiritual value. Highest on the roll of books stand the
incomparable Gospels. Jesus is a better teacher of chil-
dren than Paul. The story of Jesus and His great
utterances, as the Sermon on the Mount and the parables
of the Prodigal Son, the Good Samaritan, the Talents, and
the Sower, should be fixed in every mind. The story of
the Apostles and their sermons are to be preferred to
their Epistles. And yet the Epistles contain matter ad-
mirably suited to our purpose. Paul's Song of Eove and
his Ode on Immortality, found in First Corinthians, are far
better fitted to form the character than the theological
discussions of Romans and Galatians. While inferior to
the New, the Old Testament is still rich in .spiritual
teaching. Some of the tales, as that of Joseph, sermons
of the prophets, pa.ssages of Job, parts of the Hebrew
Wisdom, and many of the Psalms, are unsurpa.s.sed, if not
indeed unequaled, as means for creating noble ideas and
developing noble feeling. Still more, the educative value
of the vScriptures is much increased by the noble language
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 24 1
in which the thoughts are clotlied. And this fact sug-
gests again the close connection between esthetical and
spiritual impressions.
Two or three prudential remarks will fitly close this
address.
No attempt should be made fully to satisfy the curiosity
of children about spiritual things. The mysteries about
them constantly .suggest questions that must be deferred
until a later period. Moreover, to decide what ([uestions
should be answered, and what pas.sed by, calls for no little
insight and common sense.
Then it is a great mistake constantly to crowd the
lesson or the moral of what is taught into the foreground.
Even the Sunday-school is no place for what children
sometimes contemptuously call "preaching." Religious
exercises should be ordered and conducted with reference
to spiritual ends, but these ends .should not be made
obtrusive. L,et the exercise carry the lesson or the moral.
If the contrary cour.se be taken, one of two things is
likel}^ to happen: either the child will fall into insincerit>'
and cant, or he will assume a position of antagonism to
all formal spiritual influence. The normal child, as well as
the normal adult, rebels when it comes to thrusting a
.spiritual habit upon him. He fortifies himself again.st
what he* deems unwarrantable intrusions into the sanctuary
of his mind. Or, as an able writer remarks: "The child
protects its inner individuality against effacement through
external authority, by taking an attitude of rebellion
against .stories with an appended moral."
But much more than this should be said. Some people
are always ready to take account of spiritual stock, so to
speak, and to hand 3'ou an inventory of their conceptions,
feelings, and experiences. They take a morbid pleasure
242 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
in such ethical bookkeeping and advertising. But this is
not the worst of it; such persons are wont to assume that
others should be like themselves, and they accordingly
conclude that reticence on topics of personal religion
argues gross spiritual defect. Such habits betray a vulgar
mind. Such persons are wanting in self-respect and
delicacy of feeling. Children will sometimes invite re-
ligious conversation; a certain spiritual openness or frank-
ness may be encouraged, for there is such a thing as an
undue concealment of the feelings; but it is important to
remember that high-minded men and women maintain a
certain reserve in respect to their feelings, and also regard
the privacy of others. Still more, continually to peer into
the child's mind to .see what growth the seed is making,
shows lack of faith in the seed itself. It has been likened
to pulling up the bean-stalks in the garden to see how
they are .sj^routing. "In the morning .sow thy seed, and
in the evening withhold not thine hand; for thou knowest
not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether
they both .shall be alike good. ' ' It cannot be doubted that
many, if not mo.st, .so-called "serious" conversations with
children are harmful.
Finally, do not fall into the heresy that children sliould
be taught nothing that is beyond their comprehension.
Understanding is a thing of degrees. No doubt too little
pains was formerly taken to adapt instruction to children;
but that is no reason for fl>'ing to the opposite extreme,
and measuring out every idea and every word according
to the child's present capacity. The oft -repeated warning
to tell children nothing that they do not understand, is
more harmful when applied to spiritual than to .secular
things. At its core religion is emotion, not intelligence;
its method is intuition or faith, not demonstration; and if
such emotions as veneration, reverence, and piety are not
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS TRAINING OF CHILDREN. 243
to be cultivated until their nature and the causes that
produce them are understood, then they will never be
cultivated at all. There is much in religion that transcends
the farthest reach of thought. Most fortunately, how-
ever, influences and experiences that are helpful to the
soul are not limited by the scientific understanding.
From the sky, the mountain, and the sea; from the social
world, history, and literature; from the church, the Bible,
and the Divine Spirit itself — spiritual influences will flow
into souls little capable of understanding them, if only the
opportunity be given. The great passages of the Bible
may be read and committed to memory years before they
can be logically analyzed. A glimpse of the Divine
majesty, a view of the future glory, a touch of the
celestial fire, will come to the heart and life of a little
child from a lesson that he will never fully comprehend.
XII.
PAYMENT BY RESULTS/
HE suggestion that the principle of "pay-
ment by results" should be adopted as the
best method of solving the question of reli-
gious instruction in the public schools of the
United States, makes timely a discussion of that feature
of the English system of public education.^ A brief
account of its development is essential.
Previous to 1832 the English government had never
done anything for the education of the people. Not one
penny had ever been voted by Parliament, or by any
local public authority, to pay a school-teacher or to build
a schoolhouse. The existing means of education were
the few hundred endowed grammar schools scattered over
the country; the parish or charity schools, which were
the peculiar educational product of the eighteenth cen-
tury; the schools founded after 1808 and 1811, respect-
ively, by the two educational societies, the British and
Foreign School Society and the National Society; and
the Sunday schools, which still followed the example set
by Raikes, at Gloucester, of teaching the simplest ele-
ments of learning as well as religion. For the most
part, tuition in the grammar schools was gratuitous; still
* 77/1? Educational Review, September, 1892.
2 An address by Archbishop Ireland delivered before the Na-
tional Educational Association at St. Paul, July, 1890. See the
Proceedings of the Association for that year, p. 179.
244
PAYMENT BY RESULTS.
245
the expense of attendance excluded the lower classes.
They were strictly middle-class schools, as they are to-day.
Moreover, the majority of these schools had fallen into
decay, some because the tide of population had turned
away from them, and some because they had been badly
managed. Instruction in the charit}^ schools, which was
commonly poor, was not only free, but clothing was often
provided for the children as well. But these schools were
altogether insufficient in number and in equipment. Both
the grammar schools and the charit}'^ schools were mainly
under the control and management of the Established
Church. The British and Foreign Society aimed, in its
schools, to teach secular studies and the Bible; the
National Society, to teach the doctrines of the Established
Church and secular studies. There was absolutely
nothing answering to public schools as that expression is
now understood in most of the well-educated countries of
the world.
No one who understands the magnitude of national
education need be told that this was a miserable educa-
tional provision for such a country as England. Of the
whole population, only 1 in 11.25 was at school; whereas
in Prussia the ratio was 1 in 6.27; in Holland, 1 in 8.11;
and in France, 1 in 9.
In 1832 the government took its first step toward
promoting popular education. Parhament voted €20,-
000 to supplement local enterprise in building school-
houses. It was a small beginning; but Parliament
repeated the grant for several years, and then it began to
increase the sum voted. About the same time that the
increase began. Parliament included normal schools and
teachers' salaries in the grants. To trace minutely the
successive steps that led up to the present system of ele-
mentary schools is here impossible and unnecessary, but
246 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
a summary of four or five points will assist in under-
standing the present status.
When a good beginning had once been made, the gov-
ernment rapidly expanded its operations. The grants
voted for schools at intervals of five years will make this
plain: 1835, £20,000; 1840, £30,000; 1845, £75,000;
1850, £125,000; 1855, £397,000; 1860, £798,000; 1865,
£637,000; 1869, £415,000.
At first the grants voted by Parliament were appor-
tioned by the lords of the treasury on the recommenda-
tion of the two educational societies. But in time there
began to develop, in the characteristic English manner, a
department of education. In 1839 the Privy Council
passed an order constituting four persons named ' ' a
committee to superintend the application of any sums
voted by Parliament for the purpose of promoting
public education." The committee that had at first
to administer but £30,000 a year, gradually grew into
a great department of State, dealing with an annual
grant from the exchequer of nearly £2,000,000, and
exercising a very wide and important discretion. Finally,
Parliament passed an act creating a vice-president of the
council, and making him the head of the committee
on education; but with this exception, the whole mechan-
ism of administration stood simply upon usage. The
secretary of this committee, however, was and is its real
head.
The department established an inspectorship. At first
this extended only to the buildings that the government
helped to build; but when grants came to be made for
.schools also, the inspection was extended to the secular
teaching, leaving religious in.struction wholly to the local
managers. This inspectorship was to see that the gov-
ernment got the value of its money.
PAYMENT BY RESULTS.
247
The first rules of administration adopted by the lords
of the treasury, and afterward by the committee on edu-
cation, were called ' ' minutes. ' ' But as these minutes
multiplied, they were finally gathered into a document
called ' ' Code of Regulations by the L,ords of the Com-
mittee of Privy Council on Education;" or simph-
' ' The Code. ' ' Pursuant to the ninety-seventh section of
the act of 1870, the department annually lays the code,
revised from time to time, on the table of the Houses of
Parliament. If it is not amended by the Houses, or re-
jected by either of them, within thirt}^ days, it goes into
effect. The code in operation at any time contains the
conditions that public elementary schools and training
colleges for teachers must comply with, in order to obtain
an annual grant from the treasury in aid of their main-
tenance.
It was in the Revised Code of 1861 that the principle
of payments by results first appeared. Mr. Robert
IvOwe, afterwards L,ord Sherbrooke, was then the head
of the educational committee. The annual grant by
Parliament had grown to more than three-quarters of a
million sterling. The government, under the pecuhar
system, had no assurance that it was expending its money
wisely. Repeated investigation, on the other hand,
proved very clearly that much of it was little better than
thrown away. Hitherto the government had made its
payments to teachers personally, according to a prescribed
schedule. Many of them v,xre worse than incompetent.
To remedy these evils, it was proposed to make payments
to the managers rather than to the teachers, and to graduate
them to the results of individual examination of pupils,
or to withhold them altogether. More definitely, the
new propositions were these: " The school must be held
in approved premises, and must be under the charge of a
248 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
certificated teacher; " "The children must have made a
certain number of attendances; " "They must pass an
individual examination in reading, writing, and arithmetic,
and according to results in each individual case a grant was
to be made. ' ' This last clause contains the principle of
payment by results that is now brought forward as a
solution of one of our difficult educational problems.
Mr. IvOwe took the idea from the recommendations of
the Duke of Newcastle's Commission, which had in-
vestigated the state of public education in the years
1858-1860. Mr. I^owe said the government must have
proof that the teachers were doing their dut)^; class ex-
aminations were not adequate; such expressions as "gen-
eral efficiency' ' ' and ' ' moral atmosphere ' ' in the reports
of inspectors were "impalpable essences." Nothing
would do but individual examinations. Mr. Lowe de-
clared: "If the new system is costly, it shall at least be
efficient; if it is inefficient, it shall be cheap." Hence,
paj-ment b}^ results was mereh' a mode of guarding the
treasury. An American might think that the proper pre-
caution for the government to have taken would have been
to look after the examination, selection, and supervision of
the teachers. But this the character of the system that
had grown up prevented. The government did not ex-
amine, employ, or supervise the teachers. There were
no school officers other than the committee at Whitehall
and the inspectors and clerks whom it appointed. There
were thousands of government-assi.sted schools, 1)ut there
was not in England one State school, as we understand
that expression. The government had formed a great
number of educational partnerships with local managers
scattered over the kingdom, furni.shing a part of the
money, and a general inspection to see that it received its
money's worth. The local managers provided the re-
PAYMENT BY RESULTS.
249
mainder of the money and local management. Fees were
generally charged; and there was not, in our sense, a free
school in England.
Dissatisfaction with this system grew quite as rapidly
as the system itself But it took very different directions.
The Established Church was well satisfied in the main,
because the s^'stem attended to its aggrandizement. The
Dissenters generally were displeased; and many of them,
because they saw the existing system contributing to the
upbuilding of the Establishment, took the position, in
which they were supported by a considerable number oi doc-
trinaires, that the State should not meddle with education,
but leave it to voluntary enterprise. Then there sprang
up the Secularists, who stood on a platform adopted at
Birmingham in 1847: " To promote the establishment bj'^
law in England and Wales of a system of free schools,
which, supported by local rates and managed by a local
committee specially elected for that purpose by the rate-
payers, shall inspect secular instruction, only leaving to
parents, guardians, and religious teachers the instruction
of religion; to afford opportunities for which it is proposed
that the school shall be closed at stated hours each
week. ' '
But in the midst of the confusion there was a growing
conviction that the State must go farther and do more.
Popular education entered into politics. In 1867 the
Queen, in the speech from the throne, commended the
subject to the attention of Parhament, and in 1869 Mr.
Gladstone came into power, with an immense majority in
the House of Commons at his back, pledged to new mea-
sures. One of the great achievements of his ministry
was the Elementary Education Act of 1870, often called
the " Forster Act," from the fact that it was carried
250 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
through the Commons by Rt. Hon. W. E. Forster, the
Vice-President of the Council and head of the educational
department. This act, and two supplementary ones, the
Sandon Act of 1876, and the Mundella Act of 1880, are
the basis of the elementary educational system of Eng-
land and Wales as it exists to-day.
The Forster Act was a great disappointment to those
who desired the establishment of a State sj'stem of schools,
pure and simple, leaving private schools and parochial
schools to find their own place. It changed the existing
edifice somewhat, put on a large addition, and laid a new
foundation under the whole structure. In explaining
the bill, Mr. Forster said the government "must cover
the country with good schools, and get the parents to
send their children to those schools. ' ' This one sentence
from his speech well characterizes the measure: "Our
object is to complete the present voluntary system, to fill
up gaps, sparing the public money where it can be done
without, procuring as much as possible the assistance of
the parents, and welcoming, as much as we rightly can,
the cooperation and aid of those benevolent men who
desire to assist their neighbors. ' ' The most radical feat-
ure of the new act was this: it divided the kingdom into
school districts; ascertained in what districts additional
school facilities were needed, and to what extent; created
local school boards, empowered and required to vote local
rates for the maintenance of schools, where they were
needed, to be carried on under their management, these
new board schools being intended to fill the gaps in the
existing system.
The Act of 1870 defined an elemetary school as " a
school or department of a school at which elementary
education is the principal part of the education there
given, and does not include an}- school or department of
PAYMENT BY RESULTS.
251
a school at which the ordinary payments in respect of the
instruction from each scholar exceed ninepence a week. ' '
The definition of a public elementary school is much
more elaborate, viz. : —
Every elementary school which is conducted in accordance with
the following regulations shall be a public elementary school with-
in the meaning of this act; and every public elementary school
shall be conducted in accordance with the following regulations (a
copy of which regulations shall be conspicuously put up in ever\-
such school), namely:
(1) It shall not be required, as a condition of any child being
admitted into, or continuing in the school, that he shall attend,
or abstain from attending, any Sunday-school or any place of
religious worship, or that he shall attend any religious observance,
or any instruction in religious subjects in the school or elsewhere,
from which observance or instruction he may be withdrawn by
his parent, or that he shall, if withdrawn by his parent, attend the
school on any day exclusively set apart for religious observance
by the religious body to which his parent belongs.
(2) The time or times during which any religious observance is
practised, or instruction in religious subjects is given at an)- meet-
ing of the school, shall be either at the beginning or at the end.
or at the beginning and the end of such meeting, and shall be in-
serted in a time-table to be approved by the Education Depart-
ment, and to be kept permanently and conspicuously affixed in
every schoolroom, and any scholar may be withdrawn by his
parent from such observance or instruction without forfeiting any
of the other benefits of the school.
(3) The school shall be open at all times to the inspection of any
of Her Majesty's Inspectors, so, however, that it shall be no part of
the duties of such Inspector to inquire into any instruction in re-
ligious subjects given at such school, or to examine any scholar
therein in religious knowledge, or in any religious subject or book.
(4) The school shall be conducted in accordance with the con-
ditions required to be fulfilled by an elementary school in order to
obtain an annual parliamentary grant.
It will be seen that a public elementary school in Eng-
land is something very different from such a school in the
252 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
United States. It may be a board school or a voluntary
school; and if a voluntary school, it may be a Church school,
a Catholic school, a Congregational school, or a Jewish
school. Board schools derive their income from the par-
liamentary grants, the local rates, fees or "children's
pence," and voluntary contributions. Voluntary public
schools have the same sources of income, except the
rates. The conditions to be fulfilled b}' schools in order
to obtain an annual grant, in addition to those prescribed
in the law itself, are laid down in the code. Some of the
principal conditions found in the code of March, 1890,
that went into operation vSeptember 1 of that year, are the
following:
The school must be conducted as a public elementary
school; no child must be refused admittance on other than
reasonable grounds; the time-table, and also the fees
charged by a board school, must be approved by the
department; the school must not be unnecessary, nor be
conducted for private profit, nor be farmed out to the
teachers; the principal teacher must be certificated; a day
school must have been in session not less than 400 half-
days in the year; the school premises must be healthy,
and the school be efficient; the managers must make the
required reports, and publish annually accounts of their
income and expenditure; and the income must be applied
only for the purposes of public elementary education.
The annual grants made to schools complying with
these conditions consist of several items that are deter-
mined by a set of very technical rules. Unless otherwise
ordered, the grant is made for each "unit of average
attendance"; or, as we should .say, the average daily
attendance of a pupil for the year. Omitting qualifica-
tions, the grant for an infant school, comprising children
of from three to seven years of age, is made up as follows:
PAYMENT BY RESULTS. 353
(1) A fixed grant of 9s. or 7s.; (2) a variable grant of
2s., 4s. or 6s.; (3) a grant of Is. for needlework; (4) a
singing grant of Is. , if the singing is by note, or of 6d. if
by ear. That is, a " unit of average attendance ' ' may
"earn" (as it is called) 17s. for this school, while fort)'
such units may earn forty times that sum.
The grants to a school for older scholars are much more
complicated. There is (1) a principal grant of 12s. 6d.
or 14s.; (2) a fixed grant for discipline and organization
of Is. or Is. 6d. ; (3) a grant for needlework of Is. (for
girls only); (4) a grant for singing of Is. or 6d; (5) a
grant for examination in class subjects of Is. or 2s.; (6)
a grant on examination of individual scholars in specific
subjects of 4s.; (7) a grant (for girls) for cooking; and
(8) a grant (for girls also) for laundry work. Class sub-
jects are English, geography, elementary science, histor}-,
and needlework for girls. The specific subjects are alge-
bra, geometry, mechanics, chemistr}^, physics, physiology,
botany, principles of agriculture, Latin, French, domestic
economy, Welsh (in Wales), German, bookkeeping, and
shorthand.
Then there are special grants for day schools in respect
of pupil teachers and of assistant teachers employed for
schools so situated that they are put to unusual expense,
and for evening schools. Training colleges for teachers
are also provided for. The total annual grant to any
school, exclusive of special grants, shall not exceed either
17s. 6d. for each unit of school attendance, or the total
income of the school from all other .sources than the grant.
It may be asked why the grant varies, consisting of so
many different items. The answer is easy. It was found
necessary to break up the monotony developed under the
Revi-sed Code of 1861, when the aim of school managers
was to crowd as many pupils as possible through three or
254 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
four elementary studies, because in that way they would
earn most money.
Such, in outline, is the origin and nature of the rule of
payment by results. Mr. Matthew Arnold once charac-
terized it in this way :
To a clever Minister and an austere Secretary, to the House
of Commons and the newspapers, the scheme of "payment by
results," and those results reading, writing, and arithmetic, "the
most necessary part of what children come to school to learn " — a
scheme which should make public education " if not efficient,
cheap, and if not cheap, efficient'" — was, of course, attractive. It
was intelligible, plausible, likely to be carried, likely to be main-
tainable after it had been carried. That, by concentrating the
teacher's attention upon enabling his .scholars to pass in the three
elementary matters, it must injure the teaching, narrow it, and
make it mechanical, was an educator's objection easily brushed
aside by our public men. *
This scheme was adopted in the face of the remonstrance
of the highest educational authorities of the country. It
was the device of a man who looked at education from the
.standpoint of the treasury, and not the .standpoint of the
schoolhou.se. It has never been adopted on the Continent;
and Mr. Arnold attributes much of the inferiority of the
English schools to its harmful influence. It was a make-
.shift when adopted, and a confession on its face that Eng-
land had no system of State schools. It corrected the
particular evils that troubled Mr. Lowe, as is shown by
the large falling-off in the grants from 1860 to 1869; but
it engendered other evils that a high authority has thus
summarized:
(a) It has organized a system of cram, under which " results,"
measured by the standard examinations as opposed to " methods,"
have received undue recognition and reward. {d) All scholars,
» The Reign of Queen Victoria. Edited by T. H. Ward. Vol.
II., p. 261.
PAYMENT BY RESULTS. 35 S
whether clever or dullards, progress at the same rate — one staud-
ard per annum; and at the same rate in all subjects simultane-
ously, (c) The degree of success, with neglect, incapacity, and the
bad influences of home surroundings, meets with little recognition
as compared with the success in " passing " a high percentage of
scholars, {d) The profession of the teacher is degraded by per-
sistent and obtrusive appeals to the desire of gain. In the
absence of monetary inducements, teachers are tempted to neglect
scholars who are not likely to earn good grants, (e) Little
encouragement is given to teachers to forward the higher moral
and intellectual training of their scholars, as opposed to the mere
acquisition of mechanical facilities in the subjects of examination.
{/) Scholars trained under this system, and subsequently passing
on to secondary schools, are characterized by a lack of mental
alertness, and frequently disappoint their early promise. '
For man}" years the most intelligent friends of education
in England have been struggling to rid the schools of this
system. The Education Department itself has labored to
mitigate its evils; in the last code, for instance, it threw
individual examinations for grants out of the infant schools
altogether, and otherwise limited their operations. But all
efforts to throw off the incubus have hitherto proved
unavailing. It was adopted in the interest of the treasury-,
rather than of the schoolhouse; and it is felt in influential
quarters that the need still exists, in view of the mixed
character of the public school sj'stem. The department
could easily manage the board schools, but there have
grown up since 1832 thousands of voluntar}' schools that
are fed from the treasury by this principle as a feeding-
pipe. There has been since 18-10 a veritable concordat
existing between the State and the Church schools, and
this the State does not see its way to break up. What the
future may be, it is hard to predict; but for the time sec-
tarianism is the pledge of the sy.stem of payment by
results in the schools of England.
' Sonnenschein's Cydopcpdia o/EducaHon: Payment by Results.
256 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
To adopt this system in the United States would be the
height of foil}'. There would arise S3'stenis of schools
within a S5''stem. There would be the board public
schools, the Catholic public schools, the Lutheran public
schools, and so on. As a consequence, children and
teachers w^ould be segregated according to their religious
affiliations; points of friction would be multiplied; irrita-
tion and jealousy would increase, and the public school
system, in the best of all senses, would cease to exist.
Not very long ago the older portions of the United
States were svipplied with schools of a ver}' heterogene-
ous character. In most States there were the State
schools, not well organized and nowhere free. In all the
States there were private schools and denominational
schools of various kinds. Among these schools the
children were distributed with large reference to social
rank, condition, and religious connections. Narrowness
and selfishness were the result. It is the glory of the
public-school S3\stem, as it now exists, to have swept this
order of things awa}'. Thousands of private schools and
denominational schools have disappeared. Save the large
number of children in the Catholic parochial schools, and
the relatively small number found in the parochial schools
of other churches and in private schools, the children of
the State have been brought together in one s}-stem of
schools, erected and supported by the State. With all
their faults, the intellectual, moral, social, and political
interests of the country have been greatly promoted by
these schools. To build up this system has cost a vast
amount of labor, thought, and mone}-. It has been
opposed at every step by the champions of special educa-
tional views and of narrow interests. It is one system, and
one it is likely to remain. In England, where social distinc-
tions are old and firmly rooted; where the Established
PAYMENT BY RESULTS. 257
Church is all powerful; where the strife between the
Establishment and Nonconformity is bitter, payment by
results may be temporarily useful in aiding the people to
reach a unified system of State schools. In the United
States there is little reason to fear that it will be allowed
first to disintegrate and finally to destroy the noble system
that now exists.
Note.— Some important educational history has been made in
England since this paper was written, and in part since it was
published. Payment by results has been almost wholly abandoned.
Moreover, Parliament passed an act in 1891 that materially
changed the financial support of schools. The full text of this
act may be found in The Educational Review. Vol. II. , p. 303, et
seq.
XIII.
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY
SCHOOL SYSTEMS.^
HE school system of a republican state is not
only for the people, but of the people, and by
the people. It will therefore reflect the popu-
lar intelligence, virtue, and spirit. It may in-
deed be better or worse than its creators, but only for a
limited time. The schools of any community or state, in the
long run, will not rise far above or fall far below the civil-
ization around them. Owing to a happy conjunction of
circumstances, they ma}'^ pass beyond the range of public
appreciation and sympathy; but if so, they will either fall
back to the people, or halt until the people overtake
them. Owing to unfavorable influences, the schools may
fall into the rear of the column, and fail to express the
average culture and life; but if so, the public will in time
find it out, and will compel them to quicken their pace.
Guizot holds that civilization consists of two principal
facts— the progress of society and the progress of the in-
dividual; and he says: " The two events are so intimately
connected that, if they are not produced simultaneousl)^
sooner or later one uniformly produces the other. ""^
Herbert Spencer hints a similar philosophy in hiscelebrated
remark, with which as a fact we have nothing to do, that
we Americans got our form of government by a happy acci-
' Report of the Committee on City Schools to the National
Council of Education. San Francisco, Cal., July, 1888.
* History of Civilization, Lect. I.
•J.58
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 259
dent, not by normal progress; and that we shall have to go
backward before we can go forward.' In the long run, a
progressive society moves as a unit and not in sections;
and between the public schools and the public there will
always be intimate reciprocal relations. One of the many
deductions to be drawn from this truth is, that we cannot
give any people a useful sj^stem of schools: such schools
must grow up on the soil, and be an expression of the
popular life.
The relations of the people to the public schools in an
American state may be thus analyzed: —
First, they delegate to the legislature, in the State con-
stitution, power to constitute and sustain a system of
schools.
Secondly, the legislature creates such asj^stem, delegat-
ing to local authorities, variously called the sch'oolboard ,
the school-committee, etc., power to organize and carry
on schools in their respective localities.
Thirdly, the board, in the discharge of its legal duties,
delegates to teachers the functions of teaching and disci-
pline, subject to the law and the board's supervision.
Fourthly, the people elect, at frequently recurring
periods, the members of the legislature, and commonly of
the board itself; while within these periods they exert, or
may exert, a strong influence over legislature, board,
and teachers alike. As respects the last, this influence
is so strong that it may be doubted whether any corps
of teachers in the country could resist an energetic
expression of public opinion on any matter that it can
change for ten consecutive days. Thus the popular power
returns to itself, constituting a circle. In fact, there is
no other American institution that, taking everything to-
gether, is so democratic as the public school.
1 Herbert Spencer ott the Americans.
26o STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
It will be seen that a system of public schools, in oper-
ation, presents four phases to our view: the work of the
legislature, the work of the board, the work of the
teachers, and the work of the public. This report will
partially traverse all these divisions, but will deal mainly
with the board.
Between the schools of a city considered as an organiza-
tion of business and as an organization of instruction,
there is a strong reciprocal influence. The two cannot be
permanently separated in character more than the schools
can be separated from the civilization in the midst of
which they exist. The board formally enacts courses
of study, chooses text-books, and elects teachers, as
well as builds buildings; it establishes formal rules
of discipline and has the power, which it often exer-
cises, to set up standards of examination; and, by its
manner of doing business, the culture, tone, and bearing,
etc., of its members, greatly influences teachers, giv-
ing them courage or otherwise, and also affects the morale
of the schools and public opinion. So strongly was the
late Dr. Philbrick impressed by these facts that he passed
by the Prussian maxim, "As is the teacher, so is the
school," and the Dutch maxim, "As your inspection is,
so is the school," to formulate the maxim, "As is your
.school board, so are your schools." ' At the same time
teachers are an educational force of unquestionable
.strength over and above what they do in .schoolrooms. If
able and devoted, they .slowly rai.se the standard of intel-
ligence; they act directly upon public opinion, and, through
that, are felt in the election of members and in the coun-
.sels of the board; while they act upon that body directly
through their expert knowledge and moral force.
• City School Systems in the United States, p. 14.
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 261
It does not follow from this reasoning that the business
and educational sides of a system of schools, will, at any
given time, be equally well developed. Far from it. At
the present time, for example, the schools as organiza-
tions of instruction are better than the schools as organ-
izations of business; that is, the teachers, open as they
may be to criticism, are still somewhat in advance of
average public sentiment and of average board admin-
istration. The pressing need of the hour is, for the
people and the board to overtake the teachers. Still,
such a state of things as this cannot last long; good
schools, a bad schoolboard, and an indifferent or ignor-
ant public opinion will not long exist side by side in the
same city; the board and the public will rise to the level
of the schools, or the schools will fall to the level of the
board and the public.
Perhaps two or three further remarks touching the
relations of teachers and the board may be permitted.
Instruction is so purely a professional matter that the
board is commonly disposed to allow teachers to make the
course of study, to set the standard of examinations, and
to invent methods of instruction; but it accords them no
power, and but limited influence, in the selection of text-
books and in fixing the qualifications of teachers, not to
mention matters of a purely business nature, as finance,
construction, and the like. So far as merely business
matters are concerned, some boards are sensitive even to
suggestions from teachers. "Stick to your last! " is the
sentiment that burns in the breast of many a l^oard- mem-
ber. In fact, there is reason to think that, owing to the
division of labor, and perhaps to other causes, the admin-
istrative and teaching functions of the schools are
becoming more widely separated than formerly. In some
places board-members appear to take less interest in the
262 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
schools as places of teaching, leaving them more and
more to the teachers, while they more and more magnify
their own peculiar ofhce. It is always difficult to prove
propositions relating to the slow drift of opinion or of
social change; but it is at least questionable whether in
some States the influence of teachers in school legislation
is equal to what it was thirty years ago. At least, the
teachers of whole States have called upon the legislature
again and again for legislation of the value of which they
are not only the best, but almost the only competent
judges; and only to see their call fall at the feet of legis-
lators powerless and dead. More than formerly, educa-
tional meetings are gatherings of teachers; fewer outsiders
appear on the programmes; and the subjects discussed are
more professional and less administrative or popular.
Perhaps this closer specialization of functions is attended
by some advantages; it certainly is by some disadvan-
tages.
However they may differ as to these general views,
practical school men will generally, if not universally,
agree that the constitution and powers of the schoolboard,
the mode of selecting its members, and its methods of
doing business are all live school questions. They will
be briefly discussed in order.
I. The, Constilution and Powers of the Board. — The
constitution and powers of the board, which is neces-
sarily the creature of State law, must depend in a measm-e
on the local political institutions of the State. Manifestly,
the town s>-stem of New England, the county system of
the vSouth, and the compromise system of the Middle
States and the West will materially influence the school
legislation of these groups of States. In fact, we have
no difficulty in dividing our 5)tate .school laws and sy.stems
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 26;^
into three classes corresponding to these three groups of
local institutions. In New England the local school
authorities are either town oflScers or district ofl&cers, or
both ; in the South they are mainly county and district
officers; while in the vast region covered by the compro-
mise system, town and county officers, and often district
officers, unite in administering the schools. It is there-
fore impossible to create a model school system, or even
school-board, that would answer for all parts of the
country. A county superintendent would be an anomaly
in New England, where the county is a judicial but
hardly a political division;^ a town meeting would be an
anomaly in the South, where the town in a political sense
does not exist ; while in the West both town elements and
county elements are mingled in all the school systems.
These facts of local institutional life will differentiate our
school laws and our school systems as long as they con-
tinue to exist. Men will not be apt to use the county
or the town for school purposes unless they also use it
for political purposes.
To a great extent, however, city schools must be
excepted from the foregoing generalization. Generally
speaking, such schools exist under special charters or laws,
or the general school laws of the State are supplemented
by special provisions. Thus, the laws of Ohio contain
numerous provisions relating to city districts of the first
grade of the first class, of the second grade of the first
class, etc. As a consequence of this partial withdrawal of
the city schools from the larger systems, and of the prev-
alence in American cities of similar conditions, the city
schools are much more homogeneous as respects both the
organization of business and the organization of instruc-
1 The county superintendency has been introduced into
Vermont.
264 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
tion than the country and village schools. Moreover, the
conditions existing in cities are such that this segregation
of the schools is a necessity. For example, the schools
of a city cannot be made, or be kept, subject to the county
supervision; nor can the board be compelled to wait on
the motions of a township board. There must be a local
authority coextensive with the jurisdiction, legally capa-
ble of taking the initiative. So very strong is this ten-
dency that even small villages struggle for and obtain
school autonom}'.
But the question of city autonomy disposed of, a more
difficult question remains, viz. : What shall be the rela-
tion of the local board to the municipal government?
Shall it be independent, or shall it be subordinate?
And if subordinate, to what extent? In New England,
where the town meeting in its sovereign capacity passes
on all fundamental questions of local government, includ-
ing the schools, this cannot be a very important question;
but in places where the local government is representative,
and not democratic, it is of much importance. The cities
of the country present the widest contrasts in this respect.
In some, the school board is as completely independent of
the city council and all other municipal authorities as
though the two did not belong to the same municipality ;
while in others, nothing done by the board is done finally
until the council has ratified it. Both of these are ex-
treme plans. However, this question will not be discussed
here, except to say that the arguments in favor of keep-
ing the financial affairs of the city unified are, from the
side of municipal administration, absolutely conclusive;
and that there is no more reason for giving the educational
department autonomy than for giving it to the parks, the
streets, or the fire department. Education is a civil
affair, but not an autonomous affair. Of cour.se, it does
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 265
not follow that it would always be wise to reorgani/x* an
autonomous board.
The powers of the board, from the very nature of the
case, must be partly legislative, as in the adoption of
studies, books, and rules; partly executive, as in the elec-
tion of teachers; and partly judicial, as in liandHng cases
of discipline. The proper size of a city board is a ques-
tion that cannot be answered off-hand. Something
would depend on the size of the city and the traditions
of the people; and much more on the manner in which the
board organizes its business. Both of these points will
be touched again in connection with that topic.
II. The Selection of Board- Members. — The problem of
securing competent schoolboards in cities remains un-
solved. Its importance and difficulty so impressed Dr.
Philbrick that he wrote: "Without doubt, this is the
supreme educational problem which remains for our
educational statesmanship to grapple with.'" There are
two general modes of selecting board-members, each of
which presents several species.
First, popular election. Here the species are: (1) Elec-
tion by ward or district ticket of members to represent the
ward; (2) election by city ticket of members to represent
the city; (3) the combination of the two foregoing plans —
thus constituting a board composed of local members and of
members-at-large. As respects these three plans, what is
best administered is best; and tio wise educator would rec-
ommend that any one of them that is now working satis-
factorily in any citj' should be dropped for either of the
others. They are all in harmony with the prevalent
political and social temper of American society; and there
is no one of them that may not, under favorable condi-
^ City School System in the United States, p. 16.
266 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
tions, produce satisfactor}- results. Moreover, if a board
were now first to be constituted in a rising city, a
practical educator, if consulted, might find it hard to
choose among them.
In cities where the ward-ticket plan has led to gross
abuses, it is common for citizens to look with favor on the
general-ticket plan. Nor can it be denied that this plan
is supported by some plausible arguments. It is said that
the small men who work into the board from the wards
never could be elected on a city ticket; that only men of
some intellectual and moral qualifications could secure the
party nominations; or that, if they did, they could not
secure the requisite votes to elect them; that ward issues,
ward " slates," and ward men, would give way to educa-
tional men; — in a word, that men could no longer be
elected to manage the public schools simply because they
favored opening the saloons on Sunday or for some similar
reason.
It may be doubted whether this reasoning is not more
specious than solid. The party candidates would be
nominated by the city caucus; the nominations would go
to the foot of the list, and so be made after the chief
municipal officers had been designated; the caucus would
have spent its strength and interest in these other nomin-
ations; and we may well question whether the opportunity
for improper men to secure the nominations would not he
as good as now, if not better. Nor is it probable that
citizens would be more independant of party when it
came to voting than they now are. In some cities the
board would consist wholly of members of one party.
These are theoretical arguments; but to some degree at
least they have been confirmed by experience. A culti-
vated gentleman, who was at the time president of a city
sch(j(jlb()ard, after listening courteously to the argument
THE BUSIxNESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 267
for the general-ticket plan, said, smiling, "It doesn't
work so in ," (naming his own city j. It is true that
these objections would be partially overcome if the elec-
tion were made a special one; but in that case new
difficulties might arise. At all events, this plan will hardly
furnish the looked-for means of escape from existing evils.
The complexity of the combination plan is no doubt an
objection to that.
Scrvid/y, appointment. Four varieties of this method
are found in operation: Appointment (1; by the city
council; (2) by the judges of the courts; (8) by the
mayor; (4) by the mayor by and with the consent of the
council. Although the first of these plans may work well
in some instances, it cannot, for obvious reasons, be gen-
erally recommended; but there are no a priori reasons
why any one of the others should not produce satisfactory
results. The argument in favor of an appointive board
will be briefly sketched.
The grand cause of bad schoolboards in cities is the
same as the grand cause of bad city administration gener-
ally, viz. : the triumph of politics over business methods.
How complete that triumph is in many cities, all men
know who are even casually acquainted with current
municipal affairs. In fact, one of the pressing political
questions is the thorough reform of municipal govern-
ment. There is no reason to think that in this respect
the .schools have suffered more or less than other depart-
ments of cit}' government. It is to be observed, however,
that the real nature of the evils that politics inflicts upon
the school, or even upon city administration as a whole,
is not always understood. No doubt partisan politics-
Republican and Democratic politics — has much to answer
for; but school ^oX\\\q.s — the application of the politician's
methods to .school questions— does far more harm.
268 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Those men who have studied municipal questions most
thoroughly are convinced that there is no ultimate means
of escape from existing evils but by reducing the number
of elections and elective officers, by limiting the power of
the municipal legislature, and by materially increasing the
power and responsibility of the chief municipal executive.
The city of Philadelphia has already been thoroughly
reorganized on what is called ' ' the Federal Plan ' ' ; and
the city of Cleveland has sent a monster petition of its
business and professional men to the State legislature, pray-
ing for a similar reorganization.' The solution of city-
school administration must be sought in the same quarter.
The maj'or of the city, or the judges, would be able to
appoint a better school board than the people at large are
able to elect. The abstract proposition that the people
have abundant intelligence and virtue to name a board,
although true, is nothing to the purpose. The concrete
question, What are citizens doing, and likely to do,
under the conditions actually existing in the cities, ridden
and handicapped as they are by the politicians ? is the one
to be considered. Furthermore, the mayor, if he failed
to use his power, could be and would be held to a strict
accountability. And the same of the judges. No doubt
it will be objected that these officers, and particularly the
mayor, would abuse the power; but cities can be named
that never had a mayor who would dare to appoint such
a board as the people habitually elect, save when aroused
to spasmodic action by an accumulation of abuses. The
mayor is one man, and an officer who can be arraigned at
the bar of public opinion; while the demos is not respon-
sible, since experience proves the futility of calling any
power to account at its own bar.
1 vSuch reorganization has been since accomplished, including
the schools.
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 269
There can be little, if aii}', doubt that the public would
exercise far more control over the schools by the appoint-
ive plan than it does or can exercise by the elective plan.
It can compel the mayor to do what it cannot do itself.
Guizot has shown that public opinion is sometimes far
more efficacious than legal institutions. "It is very nat-
ural," he says, "that men should wish their intelligence
to be prompt and apparent; that they should covet the
credit of promoting success, of establishing power, of
producing triumph. But this is not always either possi-
ble or useful. There are times and situations when the
indirect, unperceived influence is more beneficial, more
practicable."* The present case is one of those in which
influence will prove greater than power.
With the change in the mode of appointment should
also come a lengthening of the term of service. Now
the legal term is commonly short, and changes of one
kind and another tend to make the actual time still
shorter. In the schoolboard of a certain city of a quar-
ter of million people, sixty different men might have sat
from 1882 to 1886, and fifty-one men did actually sit.
The eighty-six years of aggregate service divided by the
aggregate number of members gives an average period of
one year and a half. Words can hardly tell the ignorance,
incapacity, and friction that such a system introduces
into the school administration.
III. Mode of Board Administration. — The board must
be clothed by the law with legislative, executive, and
judicial powers and duties. One of the first things
that it should do, however, is immediately to divest itself
of most of its executive and judicial duties, and to con-
fine itself mainly to legislation. The reasons why a
^History of Civilization, Lect. VI.
270 STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
board is a bad executive body are obvious, and do not
call for formal statement. But it is important to point
out how its executive duties should be discharged.
Acting as a legislature, the board should establish
three executive departments, defining their powers and
duties.
The Department of Finance, Accounts, and Records.
The Department of Construction, Repairs, and Supplies.
The Department of Instruction and Discipline.
The heads of the departments might be called the Aud-
itor, the Superintendent of Construction, and the Superin-
tendent of the Schools. Nothing will be said here of
their qualifications further than that they should be men
of decided ability and character, having each an expert
knowledge of the important duties committed to their
charge.
These departments should be as permanent and effi-
cient, relatively, as the executive departments of the
State or National government; perhaps it would be wise
to have them provided for in the school law itself; cer-
tainly they should be put high beyond the reach of hasty
board action. It is not necessary in this report to cata-
logue the duties that would fall to them respectively;
but it is necessary to insist that they should be the sole
channels of executive administration, within their several
limits. Judicial functions, so far as employes are con-
cerned, should be delegated to the heads of these depart-
ments, reserving the right of appeal to the board, duly
limited.
School administration in cities is still organized essen-
tially as it was when the cities were villages- While this
organization answered the villages well enough, it is now
far outgrown. To be sure, semblances of executive de-
partments are found in these organizations, but they are
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTl^MS. 27T
embryonic and feeble. To a very great extent boards
intrust administration to committees of their own number.
This is not quite so absurd as it would be for a State leg-
islature to attempt to carry on the whole State adminis-
tration by means of standing committees, but the ab-
surdity is of the same sort.
Confining itself mainly to legislation, the board should
do business like a legislature. It should appoint a few
standing committees, say on finance, on teachers and sal-
aries, on course of study and text-books, on construc-
tion, on judiciary, and perhaps two or three more. De-
tails can be readily settled when the main ideas have been
agreed upon. At the same time, it will be well to indi-
cate the method of procedure.
For example, the Committee on Teachers and Salaries
would, at the proper time, report the number of teachers
needed the ensuing year, a schedule of salaries, and the
amount of money required to pay them. After being
printed, discussed, and amended, if necessary, the board
would pass the bill, and the money voted would then be
duly entered on the Auditor's books as subject to draft
for this purpose. Similarly, the Committee on Construc-
tion would report on repairs, on new buildings, or on
supplies, and the procedure would be the same as before.
By this plan the legislative work of the schools, as
well as the executive work, would be far better done than
now. At present the board spends a great deal of time
in trifling acts of legislation. For the schoolboard of a
great city to legislatate, in terms, on the purchase of a
few feet of hose-pipe, or of a lawn-mower, is no less and
no more absurd than it is to have twenty-five or thirty
standing committees, many of them charged with ex-
ecutive functions, simply in order that as many men may
have the petty chairmanships.
272 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Not only would this plan of organization secure far bet-
ter results than are now secured, but it would save much
time and annoyance. A meeting a month, on the average,
would be all-sufficient. Again, this plan would render a
board of considerable size not only unobjectionable but
desirable; whereas a board that holds the major execu-
tive duties in its own hands must be small to be efficient;
it is hardly an exaggeration to say, the smaller the better.
The plan would give to the office of Superintendent of
Schools that strength and dignity which its efficiency
demands. As a matter of course, the superintendent
would be clothed, either directly or indirectly, with power
over the course of study, instruction, and discipline. The
new Cincinnati rule should be incorporated in the organi-
zation of the board, viz. : The superintendent of the pub-
lic schools shall appoint all the teachers of said schools,
by and with the consent of the board of education, and the
superintendent or board may remove for cause. Possi-
bly some would think it wise to go as far as the bill drawn
up for the better government of the city of Cleveland,
submitted to the Ohio legislature at its last session, which
did not pass, ' ' The superintendent of schools shall have
power to select his assistants, appoint all teachers, pre-
scribe courses of study, and select text-books. " More-
over, this bill abolished the board of education altogether,
and gave the schools, as well as all other parts of the city
government, a highly centralized organization.
It is not pretended for a moment that the plan of ap-
pointment and administration now sketched out rather
than fully elaborated, if embodied in law, would relieve all
the evils of the public schools. Nothing of the kind. But it
is contended that they would lead to substantial reforms;
better men, better methods, and better administration
THE BUSINESS SIDE OF CITY SCHOOL SYSTEMS. 273
would be secured. No doubt the objection would be made
that the plan is undemocratic. But the charge would be
untrue. The scheme proposed contains nothing that maj-
not somewhere now be found in actual operation, save only
the full development of the executive departments, and
the practical limitation of the board to legi-slation. The
board, of course, would choose the executive officers.
Behind the whole organization would stand the public, as
now, having less immediate power, but far more ultimate
influence. The scheme is submitted to the Council in the
belief that, in its essential features, it is the best one attain-
able in the present state of our civilization. It is certainly
in harmony with the best current thinking concerning
city government in the United States. Nor is argument
needed to show that it would give courage to teachers, and
that it would call abler men than now into the school service,
as board-members, instructors, and supervisors.
Note. — I have somewhat changed my views on one or more
minor points made in the foregoing report, but am more than ever
convinced that the main argument is sound. Since 1888 the
subject has occupied increasing attention. A few references may
be given .
White, Dr. E. E.: Report of the Committee on City School
Systems, made to the National Council of Education sX St. Paul,
July, 1890. The Proceedings of the Council, and of The National
Educational Association for that year.
Draper, President A. S.: Plans of Organization for School Pur-
poses in Large Cities. A paper read at the meeting of the Depart-
ment of Supervision at Boston. Proceedings of the National
Educational Association for 1894.
The same: On the Organization of City School Systems. Third
division of the Report of the Committee of Fifteen. Educational
Review, March, 1895.
INIowry, W. A.: Powers and Duties of School Super intendcntx.
Educational Review, Januarj-, 1895.
See also Hand-Book of the Board of Education of the City of
Cleveland, iSgs, 1896, for the Reorganization Act of that city, 1892.
XIV.
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERIN-
TENDENT.'
HE American superintendent of schools, or of
public instruction as he is sometimes called, is
an officer sui generis. He is native to the
soil. Perhaps his nearest congener is the
inspector of schools found in England and France, Hol-
land and Germany. But the duties of the superintendent
and of the inspector are very different. He is, moreover,
a recent evolution e\-en in this countr3^ The first city to
appoint a superintendent that history mentions was Prov-
idence, R. I., in 1839.^ Several towns in Ohio appointed
superintendents in 1848; Boston and New York did so in
1851; Cleveland in 1853, and Philadelphia not until 1883.
How many such officers there are now in the United
States no one can tell, but certainly many thousand. Not
alone the great cities with their hundreds of teachers and
tens of thousands of pupils, but even villages with a half-
dozen teachers and two or three hundred pupils have
them. Some effort has been made to distinguish the
superintendents of the small towns by the older title of
principal, but it has not been very successful. Still
further, the superintendents of the country are as influen-
tial as they are numerous. They have organized .sections
or departments of the educational associations, as well as
associations of their own, for the discussion of the topics
that most concern them as school officers, with a view to
' The Educational Review. January, 1894.
^ Editor's preface to Dr. Pickard's School Supervision.
274
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 275
self-improvement and the formation of public opinion.
They have their special classes in summer schools.
Lectures on superintendence are given in normal schools,
and in colleges offering pedagogical instruction. Far
beyond any other class of persons of equal numbers, the
superintendents directly shape the schools and public
education. And this, too, without taking into account
the State superintendents who, w^iile they are only dwarfs
compared wnth the European ministers of education,
sometimes possess considerable power and still oftener
wield large influence. Says Dr. W. T. Harris: "Before
1 837 Connecticut surpassed the other States in the educa-
tion of its people. But the mighty engine of supervision
wielded by a Horace Mann immediately turned the scale
in favor of Massachusetts."^ Still, notwith.standing the
superintendency is now some fifty years old, and has
attained such importance, its permanent character is 1j\-
no means determined. On the contrary it is yet pla.stic;
possibly it is even more plastic now than it was .some
years ago. Certainly the most thoughtful students of
educational .science are not clear as to what the future
superintendent will be, and perhaps not clear as to what
he ought to be. The time is therefore an opportune one
to discuss the subject, not dogmatically but tentatively,
with a view to casting light along the future track of
opinion and practice. To do this we must first trace out
the development of the office as shown in our educational
history. This can be done all the more readily because
all the steps, unlike some other evolutions, are open to
the eye of daily ob.serv^ation in every State of the Union.
Sec. 21, Chap. XLIV, of the School Laws of Mas.sachu-
setts declares: "Every town shall, at its annual meeting,
» Editor's preface to School Supervision, by Dr. J. L. Pickard.
276 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
or at a meeting appointed and notified by the selectmen for
the purpose and held in the same month in which the annual
meeting occurs, choose by written ballots a school com-
mittee, which shall have the general charge and superin-
tendence of all the public schools in the town. ' ' Many
other powers are given to this committee, as to contract
with teachers, choo.se text-books, establish courses of
study, dispense discipline, and examine teachers; but the
emphatic point now is that it has general charge and
superintendence of all the public schools in its jurisdiction.
This provision is not peculiar to Massachusetts; it is
found in substance in iState school laws generally, and is
plainly necessary if the committees and the schools are to
be efficient. This power to supervise the school or schools,
lodged by law in the town committee or the district board,
is the primal cell from which the school superintendency
has been evolved. We are now to follow the steps by
which it has been produced. First, however, it is impor-
tant to observ^e that in the majority of towns and districts
the countr}' over this primitive state of things still exists.
Perhaps one-half the schools are still supervised, so far as
they are supervised at all, by committees or boards. These
schools and boards we may dismiss at once, because they
do not concern our special subject.
It is probable that board supervision of schools fifty
or sixty years ago was about what it is to-day. Some-
times it was better and sometimes worse, as determined by
the ability of the members of the board, their interest in
education, their employments, and the traditions of the
town or district; but, on the whole, it was very unsatis-
factory, more nominal than real, and particularly so when
the schools began to take on a higher form of organiza-
tion. As the schools of cities and towns increased in size
and complexity, things became worse instead of better.
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 277
There was no authority adequate to shape and administer
the new organization. There was sad lack of unit}' and
intelligent direction. Plainly, something must be done.
There now ensued a differentiation ; a short step was taken
in the direction of sj'stem.
Long before this time the principal, or ma.ster, had
appeared; a head-teacher, who not only taught the highest
class of pupils, but who also had general oversight
of the building or house where a group of schools and
teachers had been brought together. Progressively, the
board had magnified the office of the principal, often
making him a de facto supervisor of his house in respect
to various subjects. Naturally, the new needs of the
schools were first met, in part, by laying new duties upon
him. He became a sort of rudimentary superintendent.
The board had also distributed many of its functions
among a number of committees, as the committees on
teachers, on buildings, on course of study, etc. ; said com-
mittees being charged with the general oversight and
superintendence of the schools, subject to the controlling
authority of the board. This state of things existed in
Philadelphia until 1883, only the city was divided into
many districts and many boards, and it still exists, with the
same amendment, in Hartford, Conn. But .sometimes the
board went farther. For example, the Cleveland Board
for many years constituted its secretary acting .school
manager, charging him to attend personally to all the
ordinary affairs of the .schools, under the direction of
the board, and paying him a small .salary for his .services. '
One of the.se managers was a lawyer and another a mer-
chant, both in active business. Presumably they paid
more attention to the business side than to the educational
1 Early History of Cleveland Public Schools, by Andrew Freese,
p. 25.
278 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
side of the schools; still they did not wholly overlook the
latter, as admirable extracts from the reports still extant
of one of them show. Besides, visiting committees of
citizens were appointed by the Iward in the various school-
districts, whose views and recommendations often had
value and exercised no small influence. All these devices,
including the conferring of new authority upon the princi-
pal, were open confessions that the board could not ade-
quately discharge its legal duty of supervision, and that
a new step in the line of development was inevitable. This
step produced the superintendent.
All this time public education was increasing in com-
plexity. Cities were growing, and increasing interest in
education brought a relatively larger number of children
to the school-houses. In a word, the school organization
was expanding in every direction. Good schools were
found in cities side by side with poor ones, owing to the
fact that they had different principals and boards. Tlie
greatest confusion and inequality prevailed in cities where
the other parts of the public service were well unified; the
resulting evils became intolerable, and so .school organiza-
tion became absolutely necessary. These causes compelled
the organization of the Cincinnati schools in 18i!9, the
Columbus schools in 1845, and the Cleveland schools in
1 848. New York had no school board until 1842, and
complete organization was not achieved until 1851. And
naturally — nay, inevitably— the unification or consolida-
tion of a group of city school di.stricts, or the appearance of
a school system, compelled the creation of the superin-
tendency and the choice of a superintendent. His
appearance at the educational headquarters marked the
triumph of order and organization over division and chaos.
He was the pledge of unity and uniform admini.stration
in the .schools, and he stands for those ideas to-dav.
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERIXTENDENT.
279
Perhaps it is commonly supposed that the superinten-
dency is an evolution from the teaching function. If so,
there could not be a greater mistake. The superintendent
came forth from the school committee or board, as the
history plainly shows. As a person, he may have been
taken from the teachers, and commonly he was, though n(»l
always; but his official duties originated in the delegation
to him of powers every one of which still belong to
schoolboards and that they often exercise. Nay,
more; in most cases where a superintendent is employed,
the board could dispense with him and a.ssume, or resume,
the general charge and superintendence of the schools
itself, if it saw fit. It is important to remember these
facts. To quote Superintendent Stockwell, of Rhode
Island: "It is extremely unfortunate for the welfare of
our schools that, in the development in our State of the
work and status of the superintendent of schools, the
idea should have been allowed to gain a foothold that the
office was in any way independent of the school committee,
or that the occupant thereof was responsible to any other
than the committee, for the whole theory of the office and
of its duties has ever been to make it the medium of the
committee's actions, to give opportunity for so unifying
and simplif3'ing the work of the committee, as to make it
more effective in every respect, and thus to afford a con-
stant and suitable medium for the expression of their
will.'"
It is a point well worthy of notice that, in the history
of school organization, the high school has been an im-
portant factor. The single district of a city could main-
tain its separate system of elementary schools, but it could
not maintain its separate high school, at least not without
» Quoted in the Report of the National Commissioner 0/ Educa-
tion, 1886-87, p. 175.
28o STUDIES IN EDLXATION.
great cost and much inefficiency. Hence the demand for
the more advanced grade of instruction compelled the
creation of city high schools. Thus, Philadelphia had
cit}^ high schools for many years side by side with district
elementary schools; and such is still the case in Hartford.
It cannot be doubted that in the field of popular education
the high school has been a unifj'ing agent of great power
and usefulness.
The powers and duties discharged by superintendents
in different cities and towns are numerous indeed. When
Dr. J. G. Fitch returned home from his visit to the United
States a few years ago, he reported that the chief execu-
tive officer and ad\'iser of the local educational authority
occupies a position wholly unlike that of any scholastic
officer found in any country of Europe. Within his
State, county, or city, he said, the superintendent com-
bines in himself the characters of a minister of public
in.struction, an inspector of schools, a licenser of teachers,
and a professor of pedagogy. Under the sanction of his
board or committee he draws up regulations for the work
of the various classes of schools, and often appends notes
and comments prescribing the method in which each sub-
ject shall be taught. With his staff of inspectors he con-
ducts examinations for determining promotions of scholars
from grade to grade. He sets questions, examines can-
didates for the office of teacher in his district, and awards
to them diplomas or certificates. He holds institutes,
and instructs those teachers who have not been previously
trained in the work of their s]:)ecial classes. He also con-
ducts conferences of the older teachers, and gives lectures
to them on the history and philosophy of education. He
is assisted by a staff of inspectors and supervisors who
visit schools under his direction and share witli him the
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 28 1
duty of examining children for promotion.' Still this
catalogue is not exhaustive. Sometimes the superinten-
dent is the architect, or consulting-architect, of his board,
its financial adviser, its superintendent of buildings and
repairs, its clerk, and what not.
It is important to observe that few of the multiform
duties of the superintendent are defined by law. Consider-
ing his prominence in public education, it must be con-
fessed that his legal status is ill-defined and feeble. Such
recognition as he has is rather indirect than direct. The
Massachusetts I,aw, Section 43, provides: "A city by
ordinance, and a town by vote, may require the school
committee annually to appoint a superintendent, who,
under the direction and control of said conmiittee, shall
have the care and supervision of the public schools; or
the school committee of any city without such ordinance
may appoint a superintendent by a majority vote of the
whole board. ' ' In the same State two or more towns may ,
by a vote of each, form a district for the purpose of employ-
ing a superintendent of public schools, who shall perform
in each town the duties prescribed by law. These powers
are permissive, not mandatory; and, so far as I have
observed, this is the universal tenor of State school laws
in relation to the subject. The Connecticut law directs
the board to assign the duty of visiting the schools of the
town to one or more of its members, wdio shall be called
the acting school visitor or visitors: and then gives it the
power to appoint a person not of its own number to do
the same work. In Ohio, with two exceptions soon to
be mentioned, the office is wholly in the hands of the
local board. The general provision of law is, that the
l)oard of any district shall have full power, within certain
limitations, to appoint a superintendent and assistant
1 Notes on American Schools and Training Colleges, pp 60-61.
282 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
superintendents of schools, as well as teachers. In
Michigan the recognition of the superintendent is still
more feeble; the law does not even mention him. In
this State, however, the city schools are generally
organized under special charters. It would be strange
indeed if the law should define very carefully the duties
of an office whose very existence depends upon the local
school authority. As a matter of necessity, the superin-
tendent's duties are defined in the rules and regulations
of the board creating his office and electing him. His
status is determined by the manual, and not by the sta-
tute-book. There can, I think, be little doubt that the
superintendent of the future will have a better defined
legal status than the superintendent of the present. And
yet, in the nature of the case, details must always be left
to the local authorities. In fact, the powers before enu-
merated do not all belong to any one superintendent;
.special conditions have given the office special forms, and
so they will continue to do. It would be difficult to
draw up a list of powers that all superintendents do exer-
cise or .should exerci.se.
It can hardly be supposed that the .superintendent of
the future will perform as many duties as the super-
intendent of the past has performed, or as the superin-
tendent of the present performs. The very law that
compelled the board of a half century ago to divide
the work — the law of specialization — will .sooner or
later compel a division of the duties that are now united
in the .superintendent's office- In the smaller cities
especially the office has become decidedly top-heavy.
Many superintendents are too much burdened, particu-
larly with details, to do the l)est work. Relief may be
sought, of course, in the multiplication of assistants; but
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 2S3
the office is too much expanded for strength and efficiencj-.
And it is when we come to the question, "What shall the
new division be?" that the practical topic of this paper is
brought most directly before our minds.
It is clear at a glance that the powers and functions of
the superintendent are divisible into the two categories of
pedagogy and business. Perhaps the work uf no other
public officer is more evenly divided between professional
and business affairs. Leaving out of account the zeros or
nobodies, there are now, and for some time have been,
two classes of superintendents; the line of division, which
is by no means a hard-and-fast one, running between
professional duties and business duties. Superintendents
can be named who have won their reputation in the one
field or in the other. Some superintendents are men of
the office, others of the schoolroom and the lecture hall.
Pedagogy is pretty sure to subordinate business adminis-
tration, or vice versa.
Now it seems clear that • this line will become more
clearl)' marked as time goes on. As cities grow in size;
as school .systems become unwieldy; as the popular de-
mand for more man and woman and less machinery
increases, the t}-pical superintendent must be more of one
thing or the other. He must be more of a .school man or
more of a business man. Which shall it be ?
First, I see no reason to think that the future move-
ment will be the same in all places. Quite the contrary.
Special conjunctions of circumstances will sometimes turn
the development in one direction and .sometimes in the
other.
Secondly, strong arguments can be urged to show that
the general direction will be toward the office and not
toward the .schools. The practical, or business, a.spect of
American life in almost all departments is very pronounced.
284 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
College presidents are quite a different class of men now
from what they were a half century ago. In the great
colleges, at least, they are coming to stand more for ad-
ministration, and less for scholarship, pedagogical attain-
ments, and teaching. In all cities, and most of all in
large ones, the tendency toward machinery and bureau-
cracy in all kinds of work is strong. It is hard for the
individual to assert his personal force. The superinten-
dent's temptation to busy himself with manipulation is
great. Nor can it be denied that there is an abundance
of such work to be done. Already the schools of some
cities have severely suffered in consequence of this ten-
dency. Competent judges will hardly deny that the
larger the system the less the personal force of the super-
intendent is likely to be felt. In a city of moderate size a
man of common mould may strongly influence his teachers
and through them his pupils; but what can such a man
do as the head of a great city system ? The position calls
for a man of gigantic mental and moral force. It is my
opinion, and one not hastil}' formed, that the best superin-
tendence is now found in the smaller cities. There, as I
believe, the superintendent who has ideas and personal
force finds his largest opportunity. I may add that few
spectacles are more pitiful than that of a little man at the
head of one of the great school systems of the country.
He is about as competent to vitalize and energize the
schools as a pocket dynamo is to drive a city railroad.
These considerations impel me to the conclusion that in
the great cities the superintendent will, as a rule, tend to
machinery and administration; that he will become even
more an office man than he now is, and that he will be
less known in the forum of educational thought than he
is at present. I am making no onslaught upon the gentle-
men who now occupy these positions. Undoubtedly some
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 285
of them are educational men and do educational work;
but as a class they have not proved themselves able to
rise superior to their limitations. I cannot resist the
impression that the superintendents of a dozen large cities
that can be named exercise much less direct educational
influence than did their predecessors thirty years ago. It
is true that some method of dividing labor and of organ-
izing forces may be invented that will turn the stream of
movement the other way; but such does not appear to me
to be the probability.
We now come to cities of less size where the best super-
vision is now found, and where the conditions for the
development of the superintend ency are most favorable.
It seems probable that here the general movement will be
along the other line of direction. The existing conditions
make it possible; various causes conspire to bring about
that result. It is a dictate of the highe.st wisdom. The
good of the schools demands professional supervision;
while it is plainly bad economy to employ a trained
educational expert in such inferior capacities as clerical
duties and supervising schoolhouse construction and re-
pairs. Accordingly, the school supervision of many towns
and cities will tend to become more professional than it
has ever been. It cannot be denied or doubted that
hitherto our superintendence has partaken somewhat of
the nondescript character of the teaching body itself
But to be more definite: What duties will the super-
intendent of the future perform? The present answer
will be limited to considering rather briefly his relations
to the schools in three or four different aspects.
1. The sober common sense of the people, extending
over a considerable period of time, may be a good general
guide to what should be taught in the schools, since the
schools must be kept in touch with the people; but
286 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
there are many questions as to choice of studies, and
adjusting the studies to one another in the course, that
they can never settle. The order in which the several
studies shall appear, the amount of work that shall
be done in each study, and even the choice of studies
can never be settled by a plebiscite. Nor can the average
board of education, although its voice be regarded as
expressing in a more clarified form the popular mind and
will, intelligently settle these questions. Especially are
both the plebiscite and the vote of the board utterly help-
less when parallel courses are to be adjusted in high
schools. The course of study calls for expert knowledge
and experience, and this call the superintendent must
meet. Questions relating to studies promise to be more
troublesome in the future than in the past; the pressure
upon the course is all the while increasing; and we may
fairly expect therefore that the superintendent will be more
prominent in settling these questions than he has been.
2. Every argument that can be adduced showing that
the superintendent, guided by the popular intelligence
and advised by his board and corps of teachers, should
make the course of study, tends with equal force to show
that, with the same limitations, he should also choose the
text-books: and with even greater force, because the text-
books are the course in a very much more definite and
practical sense than the course so-called itself. The
course is but a vague outline; the books are minute and
definite.
But there is good reason why the superintendent does not
now exercise the same influence over books that he exer-
cises over the course of study. There is "money" in the
books and not in the course; and wherever there is money
disturbing influences manifest themselves. While the
publishing interest, through its intelligence and enter-
THE AMERICAN SCHOOL SUPERINTENDENT. 2.S7
prise, has done much good it has also done some harm.
Sometimes it thrusts itself between the superintendent
and his board, the newspapers, or the public. Sometimes
it enters the political field to influence elections. Some-
times it corrupts the moral sense of teachers and superin-
tendents through its largesses of various kinds. Enough
has been said to suggest that the control of the superin-
tendent of the future over books will not be as large as
his control over studies; also to suggest why it will not
be wise for him to seek the same control in the one sphere
that will be cheerfully accorded to him in the other —
unless he can in some way be protected against foreign
interference.
3. Superintendents of different cities now stand to the
appointment of teachers in very different relations- The
superintendents of Cincinnati and Cleveland nominate all
teachers, and the board simply confirms or rejects their
nominees. The Superintendent of Brooklyn, on the
other hand, has nothing whatever to do with the appoint-
ment of teachers. His only check is, that he examines
and certificates them. Commonly, however, the superin-
tendent and the committee on teachers act together in
making nominations to the board, the first rather taking
the initiative. The superintendent ought in reason, if a
fit man for his place, to have large control of the teaching
force. Far more than anyone else, the public hold him
responsible for the work done in the schools, and it is
surely a hardship to deny him adequate power. At the
same time there are excellent reasons why his power is
more limited, and is likely to be more limited, here than
in some other matters. Personal elements play a con-
siderable part in appointments. Cincinnati and Cleveland
have been referred to. The Cincinnati law gives the
superintendent large power, and also exposes him to a
25b STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
danger that he should not be called upon to confront
unless he can in some wa}" be shielded against it. The
Cleveland law gives the superintendent the same power,
and also affords him immediate protection, since it makes
good behavior his tenure of office. This law creates the
office of superintendent and gives the incumbent a firm
legal status, while the Cincinnati law merely assumes
that such an office exists. Both laws, and particularly
that of Cleveland, have excited no little interest among
educators. The rule or method of appointing teachers is
not of great importance, provided always that the superin-
tendent shall exercise a due and reasonable influence.
4. Finally, we ma}' expect to see the superintendent of
the future more prominent in the field of instruction than
the superintendent of the past has been. I do not mean
that he himself will teach more directly, but that he will
teach more indirectly. Here there is little to interfere
with him; here the need of professional help on the part
of teachers, especially the young and inexperienced,
is very great; here the progress of educational science
opens up increasing demands, and here, as I believe, is
the field in which he will find his greatest opportunity —
to instruct, inspire, and lead his teachers. Just what
this instruction and leadership should be, space cannot be
taken to discuss, but only to say that it must be profes-
sional.
The bearing of all this upon the superintendent's abil-
ities and preparation is obvious. He must have the
requisite talents for getting on with people, but he need
not be a "manager," a "manipulator," or a " school poli-
tician." But there will be an imperative demand for
more thorough education, for wider culture, and especially
for fuller instruction, on his part, in the science, the art,
and the hi.story of education.
XV.
THE EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF
THE MODERN STATE.^
JITHOUT a doubt the most impressive politi-
cal fact of the last hundred years is the
enormous advance made by the forms and the
spirit of democracy over the larger part of
the civilized world.
Sir James Stephen, of the English Bench, says two
different views may be taken of the relation between
rulers and their subjects. According to one view, " the
ruler is regarded as the superior of the subject, as being by
the nature of his position presumably wise and good, the
rightful ruler and guide of the whole population."
According to the other view, ' ' the ruler is regarded as
the agent and seri^ant, and the subject as the wise and
good master, who is obliged to delegate his power to the
so-called ruler because, being 'a multitude, he cannot use
it himself. ' ' Which one of these two theories is the true
theory, does not now concern us; but we are concerned
to know the fact that, since 1775, with temporary revul-
sions towards the older view, the newer one has been
going on conquering and to conquer. Sir Henry Sumner
Maine, commenting in 1885 upon the words of Sir James
Stephen, told but the truth when he said : ' ' Russia and
Turkey are the only European States which completely
reject the theory that governments hold their powers by
'An address delivered at Elgin, Illinois, before the Northern
Illinois Teachers' Association, April, 1891.
289
290 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
delegation from the community, the word ' conmiiinity '
being somewhat vaguely understood, but tending more
and more to mean at least the whole of the males of full
age living within certain territorial limits. This theory,
which is known on the Continent as the theory of national
sovereignty, has been fully accepted in France, Italy,
Spain, Portugal, Holland, Belgium, Greece, and the
Scandinavian States. In Germany it has been repeatedly
repudiated by the Emperor and his powerful Minister,
but it is to a very great extent acted upon." England,
he says, stands by herself. While the law and the con-
stitution speak the old view concerning the relation of
ruler and ruled, " there is no country in which the newer
view of government is more thoroughly applied to prac-
tice."^ The Queen of England reigns, but she does not
rule. On this side of the Atlantic, the change is still more
complete. With the downfall of constitutional monarchy
in Brazil, the whole American Continent, except the
British Possessions, has become republican in form as it
\\ as before demxocratic in spirit ; while the British Posses-
sions are democratic in spirit and all but republican in
form.
Remembering that man is nowhere more conservative
than in religion, we cannot say that the change is less
marked in Church than in State. The State churches
have not been dis-established, nor have they changed
their forms; but beneath the ancient theological formulae
and ecclesiastical organizations, great changes of faith
and feeling have been occurring. The bishops still hold
their chairs, but their tone is very different from the tone
that they held in the Middle Ages. Moreover, the type
of bishop has materially changed. Religious faith and
obedience are .shifting from the basis of dogma and
^Popular Government, pp. 7, 8.
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 29 1
authority to a basis of visible adaptation to the needs of
individual life and social well-being. Undeniably, the
Church as well as the State is becoming democratized.
But perhaps democracy has won its greatest triumphs
in education. At least, we cannot fail to see them, no
matter under what aspect we view the subject.
First, the new spirit is seen in studies and school cicrric-
ula. The polic}' of the kingdom of education a century
ago was very narrow and exclusive. The classics, math-
ematics, some philosophy, natural and mental, and a little
rhetoric, constituted the uniform course of study in all
schools of liberal learning. The exclusiveness of the old
curriculum, and the retardation of modern studies, were
largely due to the contemptuous feeling for everything
not branded " classical," which came in with the revival
of letters and was such a pronounced feature of human-
ism. But the power of the old tradition has been broken;
the new studies jostle the old ones; the humanities, old
and new, mathematics, science, history, philosophy, and
literature compete for students on equal terms. Numer-
ous new airricula have been established; electives have
received full recognition; and the narrow idea that
' ' course of study ' ' once conveyed has been set aside.
The same thing is seen in the extraordinary differentia-
tion of the school. Once there was but a single type ;
now there are many types, to say nothing of the variety
of work that is done in schools of the same name.
The democratic spirit has powerfully affected the
teaching force. Women, for example, were not employed
as teachers in antiquity. It was the same way in the
Middle Ages. The exceptions in either period, as that of
Hypatia at Alexandria, and the young ladies who
sometimes read their fathers' lectures to students at
292 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Bologna, but prove the rule. Now all this is changed.
Ninety per centum of the public school teachers of Mass-
achusetts are women, and 68 per centum of those of
Illinois. In the whole country the ratio is 63 women to
37 men, but in the cities it is more than 90 women to fewer
than 10 men. In England the ratio is 69 to 31. Women
art also asking and receiving admittance to the ranks of
higher instruction. Again, at the opening of the modern
era the clergy monopolized the teaching function. Edu-
cation was ecclesiastical in a triple sense; in matter taught,
in the atmosphere and ideals of the school, and in teachers.
The demolition of these barriers, or the laicizing of
the schools, is one of the striking facts of educational
histor3\
But it is in the number and character of pupils that the
most stupendous change is seen. Once, half of the
human race was summarily ruled out with the sweeping
assertion that they did not need education and could not
in fact receive it. At Athens the only highly educated
women were the heterae; at Rome woman's position
was better than in Greece, but woman has had to await
the nineteenth centurj' for her full educational enfran-
chisement. It has come at last. In 1888 as many as
29.3 per cent, of all the students pursuing education in
the universities and colleges of the United States were
women. In the elementary and secondary schools, girls,
on the whole, considerably outnumber boys. In European
countries the showing is not so favorable, but in those
countries the old spell is completely broken. I can see
no good reason why, in the United States, the women
studying in colleges should not in another generation
equal the men.
But still more, antiquity made no attempt to teach the
major part of the males. The Oriental nations doomed
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 293
the masses of their population to an irremediable ignor-
ance and bondage. The classic civilizations rested upon
an enormous basework of slavery. Education was little
more than a class privilege in Athens. When Pericles
said thought was the distinguishing feature of the Athe-
nians, he meant of the few thousands who swarmed around
the bema to hear his speeches and into the agora to vote
on public questions. The old writers are not wanting
in humane and liberal sentiments; very elevated views of
virtue, character, and enlightenment are found in the great
ethical writers of antiquity; but the pages of Plato and
Aristotle are heavy with the iteration of the essential
baseness of the majority of mankind. The constant
assumption is, that any attempt to educate and lift up this
mass of ignorance and depravit}^ would be hopeless and
foolish, — as indeed it was until the Son of Man, breath-
ing into men the enthusiasm of human it}-, gave to the
world a new ideal and a new motive power. Until recent
times the whole conception of education was narrow in the
extreme. The idea that any sj'stem could be devised power-
ful enough to reach and to educate the whole mass of men —
to permeate it with light and knowledge — never began to
assume a practical shape, and was by no means deemed
generally advisable, until the new spirit had changed the
temper and the ideals of the world. This change has not
been wrought in the last one hundred years; centuries have
been required to effect it; but at last the conviction that
society, from top to bottom, can be, and must be, educated,
has taken fast hold of men's minds. We have learned
the meaning of education as our fathers learned the mean-
ing of freedom, which was its necessary precursor; and
an educational orator of Curran's genius might equal
the immortal passage in which he dignified the genius
of universal emancipatioa.
294 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Let me call brief attention to one of the most interesting
educational movements of the times. I mean University
Extension, which has made so much headway in England,
and is now beginning to get a foothold in the United
States. This is an attempt to carry the university, by
means of lectures, examinations, and courses of prescribed
reading, to people who cannot come to the university.
It is a democratic movement in the best senseof the v^ord,
and recalls the noble spirit that attended the original
establishment of universities. We read that there were
at one time 20,000 students at Bologna, an equal number
at Paris, and 30,000 at Oxford; and any man who has
seen how pervasive, how democratic, how stirring, that
great intellectual movement was, and especially if he has
read the story of the wandering scholars, has no difficulty
in seeing how these results were reached.
The paths by which men reach the grand conclusion
are as numerous as the other elements entering into
modern education. The political economist tells us that
education promotes a man's efficienc}' as a producing
agent; the moralist says he must be forf ended against the
approaches of evil; the statesman emphasizes the fact
of citizenship; the political philosopher saj'S all the
members of the State have an interest in one another; the
minister of religion recognizes the relations of mental en-
lightenment and the religious life, while the educator
sums up all in the declaration that a man must be edu-
cated because he is a man.
To place in a graduated scale the various forces that
have contributed to create the genius of universal edu-
cation would be no easy task. However, no man who is
really in sympathy with the great democratic movement
of the century is likely to place the political force below
the summit. One of the two golden sentences relating to
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE, o
95
education in Washington's Farewell Address, is: " In
proportion as the structure of the government gives place
to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should
be enlightened. ' ' The sentiment is as wide as democrac}'.
The wisest men everj'w^here see that democracy is not a
universal form of government; that it is not a machine that
can be wound up once in two or four j'ears, and then be
suffered to run alone; but that it is adapted only to certain
conditions, one of which is a high average intelligence and
morality, and that universal suffrage means universal
education.
This rapid review brings us to the question that forms
the heart of the present address: How shall the people be
educated? Or, more definitely, how shall universal edu-
cation be provided ? Before attempting to answer, let us
get a more exact idea of what, on the material side, na-
tional education means. Five or six statistical items from
the ' ' Report of the Commissioner of Education ' ' for
1887-88 will answer our purpose.
That year there were in the United States 219,063 pub-
lic school buildings, and 11,952,209 pupils in the schools,
exclusive of high schools (an item that was not adequately
reported), with an average daily attendance of 7,852,607
pupils. These pupils were taught by 347,292 teachers;
the valuation of public school property was $297,481,328.
several States being omitted ; and the total school expendi-
ture of the year, not including payments on bonded in-
debtedness, was 8122,455,252. The State of Illinois had
12,208 school houses and 15,744 teachers; 751,349 pupils
in the schools, averaging 518,092 in daily attendance; a
total school expenditure, counted as before, of 810,279,-
374; school property valued at 824,940,783; and a per-
manent school fund of 810,383,133. These .statistics are
296 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
three years old. The people of the country are now
expending for public schools more than $130,000,000 an-
nually/ Still, the showing of the cost of education is
not complete, until we add the statistics of private schools,
church schools, and of colleges and universities — the whole
making a total that is simply overwhelming. Nothing
could show more conclusively the hold that education has
taken of the American mind. And yet in many States
the supply is very defective.
How shall this enormous burden be borne ? It is very
clear that it cannot be left to individual effort. For, first,
a considerable number of persons take no interest in the
education of their children; secondly, many have no
proper ideals of educational ends and requirements; and,
thirdly, the provision of education for their families is far
beyond the pecuniar}^ ability of a great number of people.
The notion that education can be left to individuals must
be summarily dismissed.
But it has often been said, and will often be said again,
that, were the State to step aside, voluntary associated
effort would come to the relief of individual initiative. It
is argued that voluntaryism is now a powerful educational
agent; that it is at the same time greatly weakened through
State interference; and that it is just as competent to
furnish schools and education as it is to furnish churches
and religious teaching. Herbert Spencer^ has labored
hard to establish this doctrine, but, fortunately, he has
failed to impress the public mind with it, and has not suc-
ceeded even in carrying the laissez /aire philosophers all
with him. Still it demands a closer scrutiny.
In all countries where the moral energies of the people
have not been broken down or dwarfed by paternal gov-
1 For the year 1893-94, the total expenditure was 5170,384,173
2 See Social Statics.
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 297
ernment, voluntaryism is a prodigious power, capable of
accomplishing marvels, not only in industry and com-
merce, but also in morals, education, and religion. Wit-
ness England and the United States. The Catholic
Church even, which had been accustomed for centuries
to depend upon the State, is surprised to discover in this
country how potent voluntaryism is. All honor to the
churches and associations that have made this great dis-
covery. What is more, at a time when multitudes of our
fellow-citizens, weary of independence and self-helpful-
ness, are loudly invoking the Genius of Paternalism to
bless the countr}-. let us beware of weakening this incom-
parable agent, to which so much that is great in American
civilization is due.
But a moment's reflection must make it clear to every
man other than a hopeless doctrinaire that voluntary en-
terprise cannot educate the whole people. Look again at
the statistics showing the vastness of the undertaking and
the immense resources required to compass it. Look into
the great cities, with their hundreds of school houses,
thousands of teachers, hundreds of thousands of school
children, and enormous school expenditure. Public-
spirited as are the citizens of Chicago, and immense as
are their resources, the proposition to abandon the public
school system of the city and go back to private enter-
prise, would be no less absurd than the proposition to
throw away the steam fire-engines and go back to buckets
and hand machines. On this point the testimony of ex-
perience is absolutely conclusive. No people that relied
exclusively upon voluntary agencies for education ever
became educated. Every educated people have been com-
pelled to invoke a power higher than private enterprise.
The Church, of course, has been the chief voluntary
agent in Christian countries; but the Church has never
29cS STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
undertaken, even if it has ever conceived, the task of
educating the whole people. On the contrary, the Church
has commonly put forth its mightiest energies when stim-
ulated by the most formidable competition from some non-
ecclesiastical source.
On this branch of the argument the history of England
is of peculiar interest. Down to sixty years ago, volun-
tary effort was the sole educational resource. It produced
colleges, universities, and secondary schools that are the
glory of England; but in the field of popular education its
highest achievements were the Dame School, celebrated
by Shenstone in "The Schoolmistress,"^ and the Sunday
Schools organized by Robert Raikes, at least until it was
quickened by the demand for national education. But
even the Dame Schools and Sunday Schools were raiser-
* " In every village mark'd with little spire,
Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to Fame,
There dwells in lowly shed, and mean attire,
A matron old, whom we Schoolmistress name.
'The noises intermix'd, which thence resound,
Do Learning's little tenement betray:
Where sits the dame, disguis'd in look profound.
And eyes her fairy thron<^, and turns her wheel around.
' One ancient hen she took delight to feed,
The plodding pattern of the busy dame;
Which, ever and anon, impell'd by need,
Into her school, begirt with chickens, came!
Such favor did her past deportment claim;
And, if Neglect hadlavish'd on the ground
Fragment of bread, she would collect the same;
For well she knew, and quaintly could expound,
What sin it were to waste the smallest crumb she found.
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE
299
ably inadequate in number. The masses of the people
were wholly untaught. Sidney Smith declared "there
was no Protestant country in the world where the educa-
tion of the poor had been .so grossly and infamously
neglected as in England ' ' ; Malthus said it was ' ' a great
national disgrace that the education of the lower cla.sses of
the people should be left mainly to a few Sunday schools' ' ;
while Dean Alford wrote as late as 1889: "Pru.ssia is
before us; Switzerland is before us; France is before us;
there is no record of any people on earth .so highly civil-
ized, so abounding in arts and comforts, and so gro.ssl}-,
generally ignorant as the English." And all the time
representative Englishmen regarded the situation with
perfect complacency. Lord Eldon, in 1807, thought popu-
lar education one of the worst delusions of the times, and
the Archbi.shop of Canterbury exhorted the Lords not to
shake the foundations of the established religion b}'
introducing innovations. The charity .schools were pro-
nounced all-sufficient. Bishop Hor.sley said in the House
of Lords, in 1795, that he did not know what the
mass of people in any country had to do with the laws
but to obey them; and Lad}^ Harrowby, in 1832, asked
how it mattered what the people thought or said
about public matters, provided the army could be
depended upon. In 1807, when the subject of popular
education was first brought before the House of Commons,
the majority, according to Sir Samuel Romily, thought it
was better for the people to remain in ignorance. The
accomplished Windham oppo.sed the pending bill because
some mutineers in the Channel fleet had read the news-
papers; while another orator declared that the French
Revolution was due to the people's reading books.
"Blackwood's Magazine" opposed popular education
because it would make the people restless and uneasy;
300 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
because, since ignorance is the mother of contentment,
they should receive only a religious education that would
render them patient, amiable, and moral, and relieve the
hardship of their present lot by the prospect of a bright
eternity.
In 1832 Parliament voted 20,000 pounds sterling for
education. The grant was repeated several years, and
then gradually increased. Religious partisans now took
alarm; men of the Establishment, because they dreaded
the tendencies of popular education, and Dissenters,
because they feared that the Establishment would mon-
opolize the grants. The result was the organization of a
movement composed of men who declared State education
not only wrong in principle but unnecessary and harm-
ful in practice. The Voluntaryists strove to show their
faith by their works. They beat loudly the drum
ecclesiastic. Never, perhaps, was a harder struggle
made to reach a similar end. But all in vain; the experi-
ment was tried out to the end, and ended in confessed
failure. While it was in course of trial, Lord Macaulay
delivered in the House of Commons, in 1847, the cele-
brated speech on education which was one of the causes
of his defeat at Edinburgh at the next election. This
masterly speech should be read by every man who places
faith in the sufficiency of voluntary education. Macaulay
described, as only he could describe, the ignorance of the
English masses. Of 260,000 people married in 1844,
he said, more than 100,000 signed their marriage papers
with a cross. His impassioned thought burst out in
passages like this:
I do believe that the state of education among the common
people of this country ought to make us ashamed, and that we
should present a melancholy spectacle to any very enlightened
foreigner visiting our shores. I''nder these circumstances, what is
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 30I
said ? We are told that the priuciple of uou-iuterference and of
free competition will be as powerful a stimulus to education as it
is to trade. Why, this morning I received a paper containing
reasons for opposingthe present grant; and it is said that if we only
wait with patience, the principle of free competition will do all that
is necessary for education. We have been waiting with patience
since the Heptarchy. How much longer are we to wait ? Are we
to wait till 2847 or 3847 ? Will you wait till patience is exhausted?
Can you say that the experiment which has been tried with so
little effect has been tried under unfavorable circumstances? Has
it been tried on a small scale, or for a short period ? You can say
none of these things; and I defy you to show that you ought to
apply to education the principle of free competition. The principle
is not applicable.
Not the lea.st effective part.s of this .speech were the
passages in which the orator told what the Scotch and the
New Englanders had done in the field of popular educa-
tion by the invocation of the power of the State.
Conservative as the English people are, and well
.schooled in laissez-faire, they have been compelled more
and more to abandon competition as an educational agent,
and to call in the agent that had already produced such
great results in Germany, in Scotland, and in New Eng-
land. The Fonster Act of 1870 was a long step forward;
and the results immediately following it were, no doubt,
the greatest of their kind ever produced by a single enact-
ment. According to Sir Charles Reed,^ the London
School Board alone, in the years 1871-1880, provided
facilities for the schooling of 225,236 children; and
similar results were seen all over England and Wales, to
which alone the Act applied. The Forster Act, which
was at the time by no means satisfactory to the ardent
champions of public education, has been strengthened
both by supplementary legislation and by better adminis-
i See his statement made to the London School Board, Sept.
30, 1880. Blemoir of Sir Charles Reed, by his son, C. E. B. Rcc<l.
302 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
tration. And 3^et dissatisfaction with what has been done
is all the time growing. Parliament must go still further,
as is shown by the admission made within the year by
leading Tory statesmen, including Lord Salisbury, that
the children's pence, or rate bills as we should call them,
which produce some ^2,000,000 annually, must be
disregarded and an equal amount be furnished b}' the
treasury. Such legislation will be the next important
step in the history of popular education in England/
So we come back again to our text. How shall the
education of the people be provided for? The only
answer to this question is, the State, the Organized Nation,
the Embodied People, acting through the government.
The State can effect the result. It can create and
administer the necessary educational institutions. It can
furnish the needed funds. It can wield the required coer-
cive authority. Practically there is no limit to what
it may do, save alone the popular will and the resources
of civilization. Furthermore, the government is the only
agent that can do this work. No people ever became
educated that did not invoke its authority. No people
ever invoked it in good earnest that did not find it suffi-
cient. In some of the German States the work is done
so thoroughly that practically illiteracy does not exist.
Dr. vStanley Hall says of Prussia:
We cannot study too carefully here the chief feature of this
great educational State. Its magnificent campaign against ignor-
ance opens with matchless vigor. Every parent must send his
child to school from six to fourteen — in many places they still pay
a trifling monthly fee — or he is, as Luther held, an enemy of the
State. He might almost as mx'11 refuse to pay taxes or fight an
invading foe. In 1888 of about 5,000,000 German children only
5,143 were absent from school without cause. In Berlin in the
» See note, p. 312.
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 303
same year 14 boys and oue girl of school age evaded the law, but
this result was secured by fining 1,020 parents and arresting 1,088.
Illiteracy proper is practically extinguished. '
It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that nations have
become educated in the ratio that they have enlisted gov-
ernment in the work. How significant are the expen-
ditures for public elementary education in England and
Wales for the last twenty years.
1869-70 £1,673,306
1879-80 6,327,460
1888-89 9,043,565
The parliamentary grants increased from £20,000 in
1832 to £3,684,000 in 1890. In 1869 the number of child-
ren in average attendance in elementar^^ schools was
1,062,299; in 1888 it was 3,614,937— an increase of three
and a third times in nineteen years. Voluntary education
has become practically stationary.
The recent educational history of France teaches the
same lesson. In 1881 primary education was made com-
pulsory, and in 1882 gratuitous. These are the expendi-
tures for public education of all kinds at the dates men-
tioned:
1857 16,523,969 francs.
1878 59,216,449
1888 146,000,000
State action has often stimulated voluntary action. It
was so in England in the palmy days of voluntaryism. It
is so to-day in the United States. Far be it from me to
belittle the educational zeal of the Catholic Church; but
does any man for a moment suppose that Church would
ever have built up its present schools, capable of teaching
600,000 pupils, had it not been incited thereto by the
public schools ?
» The Pedagogical Semi Jtary, Vol. I., p. 3.
304
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
Xor can the State afford to be an idle spectator in this
matter. In ancient States dominated by absolute despots,
or in medieval States dominated by petty tyrants,
that was possible, but the character of the State has
greatly changed in modern times. Democratic forms,
and still more the democratic spirit, has become a prodi-
gious social force. In the modern State no man lives to
himself and no man dies to himself; ever}' man affects and
is affected by every other. The safet}' of the State, the
well-being of the whole people, the preser^^ation of the
government, demand popular education. Lord Macaulaj'
summed up the argument in the epigram, "If the State
may hang, the State may educate. ' '
The conclusion then is this: A State has the same right
to educate the people — that is, to educate itself — that it
has to perform any other great public function or office.
The arguments which prove that it should provide police,
health inspectors, and an army, prove that it should pro-
vide schools and education. Moreover, voluntary effort
is just as competent to defend and police vSociety as it is to
educate its members. All these incomparable public in-
terests call for the organized efforts of the sovereign
nation.
That universal education means State education, is so
demonstrably true that it is hard to .see how any modern
mind can resist the proposition. One almost feels like
apologizing for .seriously arguing it; still, it is important
to perceive clearly just what State education means. It
does not mean the education of the people by an abstrac-
tion called the State; it does not mean the education of the
many by the few or the few by the many ; it means merely
that the people, or the nation, educate themselves through
the same agency that they use to .secure the peace of their
streets, to defend their coa.sts, to carry their letters, to
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 305
conduct scientific survei'S, to found libraries, and to care
for the unfortunate classes — that is, the Government.
State education involves several corollaries that should
be clearly stated.
First, State education does not necessaril}^ mean the
complete absorption of education by State schools. While
the State must see that its members are adequately edu-
cated, it may leave the education of those children whose
parents prefer it to non-State schools- Private schools
and Church schools, like public-schools, are the legiti-
mate subjects of criticism; but to assail them as illegiti-
mate or useless argues a narrowness that, under changed
circumstances, would also assail the public schools. Un-
doubtedly, such schools are a valuable and an indispensa-
ble part of the educational supply of society. It is to be
observed, however, that the State has the undoubted
right, in view of its sovereignty, to assert a general con-
trol over non-State schools. Whether it shall exercise
this right or not, is a practical question to be answered
when and where it arises. The answer must depend
upon the conditions present in a given case.
Secondly, the State school must be conducted on the
same principle as other branches of the government. It
is a civil institution, and must be conducted on the same
lines as other civil institutions. The meaning of this is
that the State school must teach those subjects that society
wants to have taught, and that affect the welfare of the
State. Whatever does not come v.'ithin this compass must
be eliminated. The common .school is for the conunon
benefit, and it must meet common wants. No man worth
regarding now teaches the doctrine of the social contract;
still all teachers of political philosophy recognize the fact
that practical government is impossible, particularly in
3o6 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
democratic societies, save on the principle of striking an
average. Only by putting the State school on distinctly
civil ground can we logically defend it. Fortunately, the
margin of possible difference of opinion as to what shall
be taught in the public school is a narrow one. Every-
body says the elementary branches of learning must be
taught, and the univ^ersal morality; while there is a grow-
ing conviction that the State must also provide secondary
and higher instruction.
Unfortunately, this view is obnoxious to some excel-
lent people. As though that were a terrible thing, they
say that it secularizes the school. Will these people
kindly go back a few centuries to the time when the State
was a semi-ecclesiastical institution ? To the time when
every function of government was much more theologi-
cal or religious than the American school now is ? The
theor}' of the State, the ends of the State, and to a great
extent the motives of the State were ecclesiastical, while
a majority of public functionaries were ecclesiastics. But
the modern State has been both .secularized and laicized
in these particulars. Even the Church is regarded by
the statesmen of some countries mainly from the civil
standpoint. The old political philosophy is gone. Re-
ligious wars have ceased. Not only Becket and Langton
have vanished, but also Pole, Wolsey, Mazarin, and
Richelieu. Once there were as many lords spiritual in
the House of Lords as lords temporal; now there are one-
tenth as many, and these exercise little influence save on
ecclesiastical .subjects. No English ecclesiastic has been
Lord Chancellor since the seventeenth century, and not
one has held a high office of state since the beginning of
the eighteenth. Since 1801 the law has forbidden men
once admitted to orders in the Established Church to sit
in the Hou.se of Commons. It has taken many .steps to
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 307
effect these momentous changes. Ever}- one of them has
been resisted by men of the ecclesiastical mental habit.
But can any man in possession of a modern mind doubt
that both politics and religion have been great gainers in
consequence ? Or can such men doubt that, eventually,
the State school must be put on the .same footing as the
other departments of the civil admini.stration ? Or, again,
can he doubt that this will be for the ultimate advantage
of all concerned ?
It will be said that the school differs from other State
institutions in this, — that it is an educational agent and
has to do with the formation of character. The reply is,
that the putting of other civil institutions on a civil foun-
dation was once opposed as strenuously, and with the
same argument. Besides, the State can do its full duty
as a moral teacher in the civil school.
But some will persist that man is a religious being, and
requires a religious education- Let this be frankly and
fully admitted. The answer is that the Church exists for
the very purpose of forming the religious character and
directing the religious lives of men. If this reply is not
satisfactory, possibly we can reach a more definite one.
In Europe the relation of the Church to the .school has
received far more attention than in the United States.
One .solution is the denominational school, pure and .simple,
which is, plainly, no solution at all. A .second solution,
which, however, is but a form of the first one, is the
"blending" system, once in vogue in England. The
copies set in the writing books were texts of Scripture,
and the arithmetical examples were made out of Bible
facts. For instance: "The children of Israel were sadly
given to idolatry, notwith.standing all they knew of God.
Moses was obliged to have 3,000 men put to death for
this grievous evil. What digits would you use to express
308 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
this number ? " "Of Jacob's four wives, Leah had six
sons; Rachel had two; Bilhah had two, and Zilpah had
also two. How many sons had Jacob ? ' ' These are
questions from a "Scriptural" arithmetic once used in
English schools patronized by the Established Church.
It would be hard to invent any kind of exercise that
would more effectually defeat reverence for the Bible.
Another solution is the so-called ' 'comprehensive' ' system
of England, which permits definite religious instruction
to be given in school to those, and to those only, who
wish to receive it. This may work in some countries,
but it is impossible in the United States. Under the "com-
bined," or Irish system, the scholars receive secular in-
struction from the schoolmasters, and separate religious
teaching from the ministers of religion. This, no doubt,
is the happiest solution that has ever been reached, pro-
vided the secular instruction and the religious instruction
are given in separate places. This is the French way —
a weekly holiday on which parents who are so disposed
may send their children to the church or the parsonage to
be taught religion by the priest or the pastor.
Thirdly, the public schools and the public-school funds
must be controlled absolutely and alone by the public.
That is, the State — the corporate people — acting through
the government, must control them. In modern society,
the onl3'' agent to which the State could delegate its power
and its resources is the Church or the churches. No
other agent asks to receive such a delegation. No other
could exercise it. Without entering into the question
of what the vState ma}^ or may not do in countries having
established churches, I must declare with emphasis that
in the United States government cannot enter into any
I'ducational partnership with any church or churches.
It is a significant fact that the plan of having the school-
EDUCATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 309
board rent, at a nominal rate, the parochial school houses
from 9 A.M. to 3 p.m., and employ and pay the parochial
teachers, excluding religious instruction between those
hours but permitting it on either side of them, has never
found general favor. Nor, we may be certain, will the
recent recommendation by a high ecclesiastic that the
English plan of having the State pay for the secular
education given in denominational schools according to
results determined by the State's own examinations, be
received with favor. Both plans are antagonistic to
American ideas.
Fourthly, it is the duty of the citizen to give the State
the same support in discharging its educational function
that he gives it in other functions. He has the same
liberty of action here that he has in other spheres of State
action; he may criticize the State schools and seek to
improve them; but to antagonize them and obstruct their
operation is an offense of the same kind as to antagonize
it in any of its other functions. Such conduct is more
than unpatriotic. Were Luther living, he would plainly
call such a man an enemy of the State.
It is idle to reply that the ancient States did not main-
tain common schools, and that State education, as we
know it, is a modern idea. The argument proves too
much. It would also cut off the post-office. State owner-
ship or regulation of railroads and telegraph lines, scien-
tific surveys. State asylums for the blind and deaf, and
many other things that we count the peculiar glory of our
civilization. But, further, a State does not, like a fish or
a tree, perform constant and unvarying functions. The
conception of the State involves absolute sovereignty; but
this sovereignty manifests itself in forms that are deter-
mined by existing civilization. In a word, the State passes
through successive stages of development. The ancient
3IO STUDIES IM EDUCATION.
State did things that the modern vState does not do, or at
least is ceasing to do; the modern vState does things that
the ancient State did not do. The ancient tendency was,
for example, to unite closely the civil and the religious
offices of societ)' in one organization; the modern ten-
dency is to separate them. With few exceptions, ancient
and medieval States left education to individuals; the
modern State has assumed the duty of educating its mem-
bers, and is constantl\' laying upon it increased emphasis.
The idea has become deeply rooted in the modern mind
that the property' of the State must educate the children
of the State; and there is about as much probability that
the State will 5neld this function as there is that it will
abandon its police or postal organization. On this point
the people have made up their minds; their motto is
Nulla vestigia retrorstivi . It was his profound conviction
that State education is both inevitable and necessary which
led Archbishop Ireland to say, in his St. Paul address
before the National Educational A.ssociation in July last:
The right of the State school to exist, I consider, is a matter
beyond the stage of discussion. I most fully concede it. To the
child must be imparted instruction in no mean degree, that the
man may earn for himself an honest competence, and acquit him-
self of the duties which society exacts of him for its own pros-
perity and life. This proposition, true in any country of modern
times, is peculiarly true in America. The imparting of this
instruction is primarily the function of the child' s parent. The
family is prior to the State. The appointment of Providence is
that, under the care and direction of the parent, the child shall
grow both in body and in mind. The State intervenes whenever
the family cannot or will not do the work that is needed. The
State's place in the function of instruction is loco parentis. As
things are, tens of thousands of children will not be instructed if
parents remain solely in charge of the dutj'. The State must
come forward as an agent of instruction, else ignorance will pre-
vail. Indeed, in the ab.sence of State action, there never was that
EDLXATIONAL FUNCTION OF THE MODERN STATE. 311
universal instruction which we have so nearly attained and which
we deem necessary. In the absence of State action, I believe uni-
versal instruction would never, in any country, have been possible.
State action in favor of instruction implies free schools in
which knowledge is conditioned in the asking; in no other man-
ner can we bring instruction within the reach of all children.
Free schools! Blest indeed is the nation whose vales and hillsides
they adorn, and blest the generation upon whose souls is poured
their treasure! No tax is more legitimate than that which is
levied for the dispelling of mental darkness, and the building up
within a nation's bosom of intelligent manhood and womanhood.
The question may not be raised, how much good accrues to the
individual taxpaj'^er; the general welfare is richly served, and this
suffices. It is scarcely necessary to add that the money paid in
school tax is the money of the State, and is to be disbursed solely
by the officials of the State, and solely for the specific purpose
for which it was collected. ^
Considering the source whence it emanates, no .stronger
testimony than this to the value and necessity of State
action in the educational field can be found or desired.
Once more, we can hardly insist too much that the
assumption of the educational function by the State was
necessitated by the change in the character of the
State. Until recent times, the State consi.sted practically
of a small number of persons. The many were an igno-
rant and voiceless herd. In Athens there were ten slaves
for every freeman, while in the days of the Antonines
Rome had 60,000,000 of slaves to an equal number of
freeman. The republics of medieval times were but
somewhat open aristocracies. In notliing, perhaps, is the
modern world more unlike the ancient than in the char-
acter and composition of the State.
And this brings us back to the momentous fact with
which we began— the democratic spirit of modern civi-
^ Addresses and Proceedings of the National Educational As-
sociation, 1890, pp. 179, etseq.
312 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
lization, and particular!}- of our own century and country.
It is the enthusiasm of humanity lifting up manhood,
proclaiming liberty throughout all the land to all the
inhabitants thereof, assigning to every man a status in
society, enfranchising the multitude, strengthening the
weak and curbing the power of the strong, asserting that
men are members one of another, declaring the right of
the most darkened mind to light and knowledge, and
providing educational institutions with a view of making
instruction coextensive with the State. This spirit has
attempted great undertakings. Of these, universal edu-
cation is the greatest and the noblest. As it is Divine in
spirit and in aim, so it may seem superhuman in diffi-
culty. But when we consider the momentum that has
been acquired, the experience that has been accumulated,
and the vast resources at command, it would be treason
to doubt that, in the end, the enthusiasm of humanity
will accomplish the work.
Note. — The Free Education Act passed the same year that
this address was delivered, was a long step in the direction of free
education in England. It justified the prediction made on p. 307.
At this writing the subject is again before the country in a new
form. The palmy days of voluntaryism are spent.
XVI.
SOME SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR
EDUCATION IN THE UNITED STATES.^
HE President Montesquieu devotes Book IV. of
' ' The Spirit of Laws ' ' to the proposition
that ' ' the laws of education ought to be rela-
) tive to the principles of government." It is
evident that by the * ' laws of education ' ' he means the
spirit or genius of education, for he proceeds to argue
that—
The laws of education are the first impressions we receive;
and as they prepare us for civil life, each particular family ought
to be governed pursuant to the plan of the great family which
comprehends them all. If the people in general have a principle,
their constituent parts, that is, the several families, will have one
also. The laws of education will be therefore different in each
species of government; in monarchies they will have honor for
their object; in republics, virtue; in despotic governments, fear.
He contends further that —
It is in a republican government that the whole power of edu-
cation is required. The fear of despotic governments rises natur-
ally of itself amidst threats and punishments; the honor of
monarchies is favored by the passions, and favors them in turn;
but virtue is a self-renunciation v,'hich is always arduous and
painful.
Granting that the existing frame of government in any
country should continue to stand, Montesquieu's general
proposition is perfectly true. Not only so, it would be
lA papei read befor** the New Jersey State Teachers' Assocl»-
tion, Asbury Park, N. J., July, 189^
313
314 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
equal!}' true in respect to both the genius and the institu-
tions of education if it were made to embrace civil societ}',
or civilization as a whole. Certainly it can be no less impor-
tant that education should be relative to the social genius
of a people than relative to its governmental frame-work.
Once more, it is quite as evident that a relation z£77/ exist
between education and civil society as that it ought to
exist between them. It is by no means true that civiliza-
tions are always homogeneous. Quite the contrary. No
civilization has been free from incongruities and contra-
dictions. In England, an hereditary legislative house
sits side by side with the most august and powerful repre-
sentative assembly that has ever existed. State churches
are found in Switzerland, France, and Great Britain,
although the first two countries are republics, and the
other a democratized monarchy. No democratic country
equals Imperial Germany in respect to popular education,
while Scotland has long surpassed England in that respect
as much as England has surpassed Scotland in wealth.
History is full of such anomalies as these. They do not,
however, disprove the fundamental ideas upon which
political philosoph}" rests. The)- are due to a variety of
causes. One is that the institutions of civilization are
never the products of conscious logic or theory, but are
rather growths more or less guided by theory. Even in
countries where doctrinaires and idealogues most abound,
and have most sway, they do not really legislate for the
future. Then societ}- does not proceed along the several
lines of movement with equal step; and this inequalit)^
again, is due to the peculiar qualities of the national genius
and character, andto the varying degrees of resistance that
facts accomplished oppose to the innovating spirit. The
State churches mentioned are survivals of the period when
there was in all Christian states only one Church, and all
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDrCATION. 315
men belonged to it; and it is hard to believe that they can
permanently breast the waves of modern democrac\- . It is
probable that the House of Lords will sometime be either
ended or mended. The slow progress that elementary
education had made in England down to 1870 was due
mainly to the stronghold of the laissez-faire principle on
the English mind, to the strong aristocratic tone of Eng-
lish society, and to the indifference or opposition of the
Established Church, which, from the first, had failed to
take such a hold of the common mind as the Reformed
Churches of Scotland and the Continent had taken. But
even in England where, as the French say, facts predom-
inate over ideas, social factors tend to coalesce; the year
which ushered in the first Reform Bill saw the first
Parliamentary grant for education, while the Reform
Bill of 1867 was the immediate precursor of the Elemen-
tary Education Act of 1870, which again has been fol-
lowed by the Acts of 1873, 1874, 1876, 1879, 1880, and
1891. Even the staunchest English conservatives seem
to have accepted the famous saying uttered b}- Lord Sher-
brooke with immediate reference to the Reform Bill of
1867: " We must educate our masters."
One conclusion to be drawn from the foregoing consid-
erations is, that the historical study of education in any
country should be wide enough to include such factors as
national character, the time-spirit, political institutions,
the industrial system, and moral, philosophical, and reli-
gious ideas. Education is never a single or unrelated
fact, but is always bound up with a great number of
other facts. Partly to illustrate this conclusion, and
partly to accomplish other purposes that will appear in
the sequel, it is proposed in this paper to point out the
educational bearings of three or four groups of statistics
drawn from the Census of 1890.
3l6 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
We shall first glance at the series of very interesting
tables and maps, found in the Bulletins issued by the Cen-
sus Office/ showing the areas of territory that are occu-
pied by certain maxima and minima of population. Two
explanatory remarks are, however, called for. One is
that the Census Office considers those parts of the country
which have a population of less than 2 to the square mile
as unsettled. These parts amount to something more than
a third of the whole, including Alaska. The precise ratio
is 1,077,594 to 3,024,880 sq. miles. The other is that
urban population is not considered in preparing these
tables and maps. The moment that any center of popu-
lation is discovered to contain an aggregate of 8,000 peo-
ple, it is called a city, and is at once withdrawn from the
computation. Thus, 51.58 per cent of the population of
the North Atlantic States was excluded altogether; or,
69.90 per cent of Massachusetts, 78.89 per cent of Rhode
Island, and 59.50 per cent of New York. As a rule,
the county has been made the unit for these computa-
tions. The total population of a county (less the city pop-
ulation as explained above) is made the dividend, its area
in square miles the divisor, and the quotient is accepted
1 The Bulletins used are the following: No. 16 {Population
of the United States by States and Territories, i8go); No. 52 {Urban
Population iti 1890); No. 48 ( The White and Colored Popu-
lation in the Utiited States in 1S90); No. 105 {Population 0/ Places
having 1,000 inhabitants or more in i8go); No. 194 {Population
by Color, Sex, and General Nativity, iSgo); No. 379 ( Wealth of
the United States, 1S90). Extra Census Bulletins: No. 1 {In-
crease and Decrease of Population, 18S0, jSgo); No. 2 {Distribu-
tio7i of Populatiofi according to Density, j8go). The areas of
States are given on the authority of The Continental Atlas, Phila-
delphia, 1894. The statistics of illiteracy come from the Abstract
of the Eleventh Census, 1890, while the educational statistics
proper are taken generally from the Report of the Cotntnissioner
of Education. 1890-91.
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 317
as the average density of settlement. But when the
county is of unusual size, as, for example, in the Cor-
dilleran region, or where there is reason to think the
different parts of the county differ decidedly in density of
population, it is not treated as a whole, but an approxima-
tion to the distribution of the population within if; is
obtained b}^ the use of the town or township as the v.nit
of computation, or by other less exact means in case this
is not practicable.^
The following table shows the areas falling within the
maxima and minima of population designated:
Population 2 to 6 to a square mile 592,037 square miles.
OtolS " ' " 394,943 "
18 to 45 " ' " 701,847 "
45 to 90 " ' " 235,148 "
90 and above 24.312 "
Total, 1,947,287
The several groups bear to one another the ratios of
304, 202, 361, 121, and 12. That is, 304 parts out of
1,000 parts, had a population of from 2 to 6 to a .square
mile, etc.
These statistics have a manifest economical signifi-
cance or value, as the Superintendent of the Census thus
explains:
These limits define in a general way the extent and prevalence
of various classes of industries. The first group, 2 to 6 to a square
mile, indicates a population mainly occupied with the grazing
industry, or a widely scattered fanning population. The second
group, 6 to 18, indicates a farming population, with systematic
cultivation of the soil, but this either iu an early stage of settle-
ment or upon more or less rugged soil. The third group, 18 to 45
to a square mile, almost universally indicates a highly successful
agriculture, while in some localities the beginnings of manufac-
tures have raised into this group a difficult farming region. Spcak-
»Extra Census Bulletin No. 2.
3l8 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ing generally, agriculture in this country is not carried on with
such care and refinement as yet to afford employment and sup-
port to a population in excess of 45 to a square mile; conse-
quently, the last two groups, 45 to 90 and 90 and above to a square
mile, appear only as commerce and manufactures arise and per-
sonal and professional services are in demand.
While territory is constantly passing from lower to
higher groups, owing to increase of population, the
lower groups, save in a single decade, have constantly
increased, owing to the enlargement of the area of settle-
ment. Still, on the whole, population has increased
twice as fast as the extent of territory settled. From 1790
to 1890 the one rate was 16-fold, the other 8-fold. In
1790 the area of the lowest group was 348 parts and the
highest 3 parts, in 1,111; in 1840 the same ratios were
228 and 7; and in 1890, 304 and 12. In a century the
area included in group one increased approximately 7-
fold; group two, 5-fold; group three, 12-fold; group
four, 18- fold; group five, 30 -fold. And yet the highest
stands now where it stood in 1860, and is lower than in
1870 and in 1880, owing to the rapid passage of urban
population into cities in the most thickly inhabited
parts of the country. Such, at least, is the explanation
put forth by the Superintendent of the Census, and it
\\ould no doubt be confirmed by an examination of the
facts.
The important bearings of these statistics on the prob-
lem of popular education must quickly become apparent to
every mind. Common schools are for the people, and
they are dependent upon a certain densitj' of population,
as well as upon other material factors. In populous
districts fewer schools are called for, relatively, while the
sy.stem can be more fully developed, owing to the larger
numbers and more varied attainments of the children who
SOCIAL FACTORS TN POPULAR EDUCATION. 319
are to be taught. The school must be within a certain
distance from the home, or the child will attend it with
difficulty or not at all. And finally, the interest and
enthusiasm of the school depend in a degree upon the
number and the range of ability of the scholars present ;
teachers receive something from the children, as well as
give something to them; whence it follows, as a rule, that
you can no more make a good .school with a handful of
scholars than you can make a good fire with two fagots of
wood or two bits of coal. It is therefore with excellent
reason that a competent writer on popular education in
France finds much significance in the facts that he thus
states: " Everywhere the population now tends to group
itself into the cities and large villages. In France the low
rate of increase in the population complicates this situation.
The rural districts are depopulated, and there is difficulty
in finding laborers to till the soil.'" Experience has
proved that a blizzard is an educational factor that has to
be dealt with in the Dakotas.
How dense the population of an American vState must
be in order to create the conditions essential to the exist-
ence of an efficient school system, is a question that, if
conducted with reference to ascertained facts, could not
fail to interest every student of American society. The
practical question would be, "What population to a
square mile has experience shown to be necessary to the
existence of such a system ?' ' Obviously, a population of
from 2 to 6 is inadequate for the purpose. But can such
a system be fairly expected to exist where the population
ranges from 6 to 18 to the square mile, or must wc wait
until we strike the higher grade of from 18 to 45 to a
square mile? To be sure, this is not the only factor that
enters into school suppl)- and popular education- Density
» Parsons: French Schools Through American Eyes, p. 20.
320 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
of population, wealth, and educational interest do not
stand in a constant ratio to one another. Besides, the
interval between the density of the most thinly populated
districts and the density of the most thickly populated is
to be considered; also the relative sizes and geographical
relations of these districts. Furthermore, the question
whether schools shall be made practically a township or
district charge, or whether large appropriations for their
support shall be made from the State treasury, is an
important one. For example, in Massachusetts school
provision is almost wholly a town matter; while Pennsyl-
vania distributes from the State treasury among the
common schools ^5,000,000 a year, and Ohio and Michi-
gan the proceeds of a State tax of one mill on the dollar
of the grand tax duplicate of the State. But here again
the wealth of the State and its distribution become im-
portant factors; the towns of Massachusetts are better
able to provide for themselves than the townships of
Michigan would be. Still another factor is school funds
or endowments; but as these resources, for the most part,
are at first in the form of wild lands, they do not become
available more rapidly than the State fills up with popula-
tion. When all is said, the material factors of popular
education, of which density of population is an important
one, are so potent that educational zeal equal to that of
the Scotch, backed by all their force of character, cannot
fully surmount them.
Such an investigation as I have suggested is foreign to
the present purpose; and I must content myself with
remarking that sparseness of population alone will long
compel rudimentary school sy.stems in large settled regions
of the United States, at least as measured by the best
foreign and domestic standards. Such schools as those
of Saxony or of Massachusetts can be looked for only
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 32I
in communities that at least approach them in density
of population. Already the declension of population
in many parts of the country has come to be a serious
factor in the common-school problem. From 1870 to 1880
only 138 counties fell off in the number of inhabitants;
but in the ensuing decade, 455 fell off, about 50 of them,
however, because they were reduced in size. The lo.sses
occurred in the central parts of Maine, New Hampshire,
Vermont, and New York, Northern New Jersey, and
Eastern Virginia, and were scattered quite generally
through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Texas, and Kentucky.
Southern Michigan and Wisconsin have also suffered,
while in Eastern Iowa a large proportion of the counties
have lost population. It is not in education alone, let it be
remarked, that these losses signify a declension of civiliz-
ing force; they are of much significance also in respect to
religion and church life and the whole social econom\-.
Still there is some encouragement in the fact that the
tables of succeeding censuses sometimes show a recovery,
owing to the introduction of new industrial conditions, as
the establishment of commerce and manufactures in the
room of exclusive agricultural employments.
One factor may be referred to that cannot be considered
at length. This is means of communication. The number,
the convenience, and the kind of roads existing in an>-
region of country appreciably effect its school attendance.
The same may be said of railroads, horse cars, and electric
cars. The bicjxle even has come to play its part. Tlie
more abundant, the better, and the cheaper the means of
communication, ceteris paribus, the farther apart school
houses can be placed, and the more remote from the homes
of the children, thus securing concentration of attendance
with its accompanying benefits. There is reason to think
that many States will commit themselves to the plan of
322 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
reducing the number of schools in their more populous
parts, placing them at the most eligible points, and then
carrying the children, or at least such of them as stand in
need of being carried, to and from the school at the public
expense. There can be little question that in this way
the schools could be improved and money at the same time
be saved. This has apparently been shown by the trial
of the plan in Massachusetts. There can be little doubt
that means of communication will play an increasing part
in popular education in the future.
To make the argument more definite, we may compare
the two oldest sections of the Union in respect to density
of population. The nine North Atlantic States contain
168,655 square miles of territory, which is thus dis-
tributed in respect to population:
Population 2 to 6 to the square mile 11,759 square miles.
6 to 18 " " " 10,000
18 to 45 " " " 45,733
45 to 90 " " " 69,267
90 and above " " 19,824
Total settled area, 156,682; unsettled, 11,973.
The South Atlantic States contain a total area of 282,-
555 square miles, which is thus distributed:
Population 2 to 6 to a square mile 19,854 square miles.
6 to 18 " " " 55,675
18to45 " " " 143,962
45 to 90 " " " 35,152
90 and above " " 902 " "
Total settled area, 255,455; unsettled, 27,100.
If we hold that a population of less than 18 to a square
mile, or 648 to a Congressional township, does not, as a
rule, furnish a suitable basis for a good school system,
then in the onegroupof States we should throw out a little
more than one-eighth of the settled area, while in the
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 323
other we should throw out nearly one-third. Or, to put
the facts in another way, while the North Atlantic States
have about six-elevenths of the settled area of the South
Atlantic States, and double the population, they contain
more than twentj^ times the area having a population of 90
and over to the square mile, and double the area falling into
the group of from 45 to 90. In the group 18 to 45 to the
square mile, the ratio is about 4 to 1 in favor of the South.
The contrast would be even more striking if we were to
present the statistics for the several States separately.
For example, Massachusetts has no territory that falls into
either the first or .second group, while the areas that fall
into the third, fourth, and fifth groups respectively are
959, 4,149, 3,932 square miles. Virginia, on the other
hand, has no territory that falls into either the first
or the fifth group, while the figures for the second,
third, and fourth groups are 3,109, 29,895, and 7,122
square miles respectively. Moreover, this is taking
no account of cities, which cut a great figure as we shall
soon see.
The average population of the North Atlantic vStates
to the square mile was as follows: Maine, 20; New Hamp-
shire, 40.4; Vermont, 34.4; Massachusetts, 269.2; Rhode
Island, 276.4; Connecticut, 149.5; New York, 121.9; New
Jersey, 184.8; Pennsylvania, 116.2. The New England
States together reached the high average of 70.7; New
York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, together, the still
higher average of 124.2 to the square mile.
The South Atlantic States presented the following
averages: Delaware, 82.1; Maryland, 85.3; District of
Columbia, 3,291.3; Virginia. 39; West Virginia, 30.7;
North Carolina, 30.9; South Carohna, 37.6; Georgia,
30.9f Florida, 6.6. The aveiage population of these
States was 31.3 to the square mile.
324 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
But we must approach this aspect of the subject more
closely. In 1890 the United States, not including Alaska,
contained 3,024,880 square miles of territory; 62,622,250
people, and 443 cities of 8,000 inhabitants or more each.
Of the total population, 18,235,670 dwelt in the 443
cities, or 29.12 per cent of the whole. Related as these
elements are, they nevertheless present no constant ratios.
Population is distributed with little regard to area,
cities with little regard to either area or population, and
urban population with little regard to any of the other
factors. The North Atlantic States contained one-
eighteenth of the area, three-elevenths of the population,
three-sevenths of the cities, and nearly one-half of
the urban population. The South Atlantic States, in-
cluding the District of Columbia, contained one-eleventh
of the square miles, one-seventh of the people, one-thir-
teenth of the cities, and about the same proportion of the
urban population. However, if the cities of Baltimore
and Washington, with a total population of 565,831, were
withdrawn, the ratio of urban population at the South to
the whole population would be very materially diminished.
Probably more people live in Philadelphia to-day than in
all the cities of the South Atlantic States, Washington
excluded. Were we to carry the inquiry further, we
should encounter some striking contrasts. For example.
New Jersey, with an area of 7,815 square miles, and a
population of 1,443,943, had 20 cities with 780,978 inhab-
itants, while Mississippi, with an area of 46,810 square
miles and a population of 1,289,600, had only three cities
with a total population of only 34,098 !
These statistics present to our study a new factor in
popular education, vnz : the city. What was before said
relative to the number of children that can be collected in
the same school houses, and the distance of the school
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION, 325
houses one from another and from the homes of the chil-
dren, appHes to the city with more than double force.
Here it is that the conditions of numbers and attendance,
in connection with other factors, have partl}^ permitted
and partly compelled the great improvements that have
been made in popular education in the last generation,
and that it has been found, in some cases impossible, and
in all cases difficult, to introduce into the rural districts,
viz. , new methods of teaching and control, better organiza-
tion, classification, and supervision, fuller development
both in the elementary grades and in the high school, as
well as the city training school, industrial education,
manual training, household economy, the kindergarten,
and evening schools. These remarks will perhaps suf-
ficiently illuminate the following statistics: —
In 1890 the North Atlantic States together had an
urban population of 51.58 per cent, of their whole popu-
lation, viz.: Maine 19.72, New Hampshire 27. -^7, Ver-
mont 7.93, Massachusetts 69.90, Rhode Island 78.89.
Connecticut 50.58, New York 59.50, New Jersey 54.05,
Pennsylvania 40.73 per cent.
The South Atlantic States had an urban population of
16.04 per cent, of their whole number, viz- : Delaware
36.46, Maryland 44.65, District of Columbia 100, Virginia
13.40, West Virginia 7.02, North Carolina 3.87, South
Carolina 6.86, Georgia 10.84, Florida 12.02 percent.
Unfortunately, in large portions of the Union popular
education is still further complicated by the race question.
In 1390 the white population of the country was 54,983,-
890, or 87.80 per cent, of whole; the colored population,
including negroes, Chinese, Japanese, and civilized
Indians, 7,638,360. or 12.20 percent, of the whole. For
our purpose we may say that one-eighth of the whole
326 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
population were negroes. Once more, the colored popu-
lation was very unequally distributed. The percents of
white and colored respectivel}- were as follows:
North Atlantic States 98.4 1.6
South Atlantic States 63.2 36.8
North Central States 98. 2.
South Central States 68.3 31.7
Western Division 04.8 5.2
These statistics become still more significant when we
analyze the several groups. In the North Atlantic States
the smallest per cent, of colored population was in New
Hampshire, 0.18; the largest in New Jersey, 3.35; in the
South Atlantic States the smallest per cent, was in Dela-
ware, 16.87 (excluding West Virginia, which might more
properly be considered as belonging to the South Central
group), the largest in South Carolina, 59.87.
The educational significance of these stati.stics is ap-
preciated by all .students of education who have a .socio-
logical turn; but it is not appreciated by the public at
large, certainly not by the people of the North, and prob-
ably not b}' the people of the South. North of Mason
and Dixon's line the race question is hardly an appreci-
able factor in current educational history. The per cent,
of colored children is so small that it is practicallj^ lost
sight of in the mass. The white and the colored children,
where colored ones are found, commonly attend the same
school; and so it has been in many cases from the
establishment of the public school sy.stems. Some of these
States once had laws authorizing .school authorities to
provide separate schools for colored children, but the
last of these, it is believ^ed, have disappeared from the
statute book. But at the South the case is far different.
Provisions .similar to Section 207 of the present Constitu-
tion of Mississippi, adopted in 1890, are found in many
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 327
of the Southern State Constitutions, viz.: "Separate
schools shall be maintained for children of the white and
colored races' ' ; and in the States where the Constitution
is silent on this point, the law speaks no less decisively.
Hence it is that, save executive machinery, there are in
every one of these States two systems of public schools,
more or less developed, one for white and one for colored
children. For the present, this state of things is inevit-
able, and no doubt it will long remain inevitable. To put
it in the mildest form, social conditions impose it upon
the South. Now at what cost, both of efficiency and of
money, public education must be maintained in these
States, words are hardly necessary to tell. In large cities,
where the youth of either race are counted by the thou-
sand, a fair grade of education may possibly be kept up
in both classes of schools; but in the small cities and
villages, and still more in the rural districts, this will be
found difficult. Other things being equal, a homogeneous
population is favorable to the support of good schools.
Accordingly, the small percentage of colored population
in such States as New Hampshire and Maine, and the
large percentage in South Carolina and Georgia, cannot be
overlooked in the study of educational conditions in those
States. The presence of a large colored population affects
education unfavorably in several ways: it reduces materi-
ally the per capita wealth that is available for educational
and other public purposes; it increases the cost of efficient
education, by making necessary two systems of schools;
it lowers the general level of intellectual and moral life.
Some of the Southern States have put in their Consti-
tutions provisions Hke the following, quoted from the
Constitution of Kentucky (adopted in 1891), Section 194:
"In distributing the school fund no distinction shall be
made on account of race or color." This is coupled, how-
328 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ever, with the further provision, "and separate schools
for white and colored children shall be maintained;" and
some of the States, and perhaps all of them, have made
like provisions in their laws. We need not question the
sincerity of these declarations; but if, under all the cir-
cumstances, the colored race does not suffer in the com-
petition it will be the first time in history that the strong,
on so extensive a scale, have put the weak on an equality
with themselves. We have not yet discovered how far-
reaching were De Tocqueville's remarks about slavery,
made in 1830. After observing that in antiquity the
master and the slave belonged to the same race, that
freedom was the only difference between them, and that,
as soon as the slave was emancipated, the prejudice that
his previous servile condition had created tended at once
to disappear, he proceeded to point out how different it is
in modern times.
The greatest difficult}' in antiquity was that of altering the law;
amongst the moderns it is that of altering the manners; and, as
far as we are concerned, the real obstacles begin Avhere those of
the ancients left off. This arises from the circumstance that,
amongst the moderns, the abstract and transient fact of slavery is
fatally united with the physical and permanent fact of color. The
condition dishonors the race, and the peculiaritj- of the race per-
petuates the tradition of slavery. The modern slave differs from
his master not only in his condition, but in his origin
The moderns, then, after they have abolished slaverj', have three
prejudices to contend against, which are less easy to attack and
far less easy to conquer, than the mere fact of servitude — the pre-
judice of the master, the prejudice of the race, and the prejudice of
color. ^
We come now to another factor. The census-takers of
1890 reported the true valuation of property in the United
' Democracy in America. Translated by Henry Reeve, Chap.
XVIII.
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDrCATIOX.
329
States at 165,037,000,000. Census Bulletin No. 379
presents many facts of interest relating to this subject,
some of which are not a little surprising. The following
table shows the distribution of this wealth by groups of
States; also the average/)^?- capita of the population.
TOT.\L. PER C.\PITA.
North Atlantic States $21,435,491,000 81,132
South Atlantic Division 5,132,980,00(1 579
North Central States 25,255,915,000 1,129
South Central States 6,401,281,000 583
Western vStates 6,811,422,000 2,250
The average for the whole country was $1,039 per
capita. The surprising average of the Western Division
is explained by the smallness of the population of those
States, and the vast aggregate of real property, very
much of which is unproductive. But let us return to the
two groups of States that have furnished our principal
comparisons throughout.
These are the averages of wealth of the North Atlantic
States: Maine $740; New Hampshire 8863; Vermont 8799;
Massachusetts 81,252; Rhode Island 81,459; Connecticut
81,119; New York 11,430; New Jersey 81,000; Pennsyl-
vania 81,170.
And these of the South Atlantic States: Delaware
81,043; Maryland 81,041; District of Columbia 81,491;
Virginia 8521; West Virginia 8575; North Carolina 831)1;
South Carolina 834^; Georgia 8464; Florida 8995.
The maximum at the North is found in Rhode Island,
%\,^':i^ per capita; the minimum in Maine, Ki\^ per capita.
The maximum at the south (excluding the District of
Columbia) is found in Delaware, $1,043; the minimum
in South Carolina, 8348. Only three of the Northern
States fall below an average of 81,000; only two of the
Southern States reach that average.
330 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
No one who is familiar with the enormous cost of a
liberal and efficient system of State education at the pres-
ent time, can fail to see at a glance the educational bearings
of these statistics. The amount of money that the States
together now expend upon common schools annually is
fully equal to twice the largest expenditure of the National
Government for all purposes in any single 3'ear previous
to the Civil War;* and if the standard set by some of the
States were maintained throughout, this sum would be
very greatly increased. It will be found instructive care-
fully to compare the following table, showing the total
expenditure for common schools by divisions of States,
in 1890, the expenditure per capita, and the average per
pupil with the table given above showing the aggregate
wealth of the divisions, and the wealth /^r capita.
TOTAIy. PER CAPITA. PER PUPIi,.
North Atlantic States $48,006,369 82.76 $23.65
South Atlantic States 8,519,873 .96 8.25
South Central States 10,790,864 .98 7.59
North Central States 62,823,563 2.81 19.96
Western States 10,130,815 3 35 34 03
The high averages of the Western States are explained
by the sparseness of the population and the high salaries
paid to teachers. Thus in Ohio, the average expenditure
for school purposes is 12.93 and the average expenditure
for tuition is ll.GO per capita of the population wdiile in
California the same items are 14.29 and $3. Or, to put
in another form, Ohio tuition is $12.70 per pupil annually;
California tuition 824.98.
A careful inquir)^ into the cost of public education in
cities could not fail to be instructive and interesting. It
has already been remarked that density of population
favors combination and organization, and .so conduces to
' Commissioner Harris re])orts the total common school expen-
diture for the year 1S90-91 at SI tr.,oOO,000. vSce Report, p. 2.
SOCIAL FACTORS IX POPULAR EDUCATION. 33 1
economy of expenditure. This is on the supposition, how-
ever, that the range and scale of education remain the
same in such populations. But this is not the case. The
city demands a longer school year, and a more fully
differentiated system. What this means in money-co.st,
could be very easily shown. The District of Columbia,
which is the City of Washington, expends $3. 92 /<?rfa/!»z/a
of her population for .schools, or an average of -^32.14
per pupil; both of which sums exceed the similar items
presented by an>- of the States, save those found in the
Western group. The cost of public education, measured
both by the population and by the school attendance of
large cities, will commonlj^ or always, be found higher,
and sometimes much higher, than that of the States in
which the cities are found.
Now, it would be quite too much to say that the cost of
education always measures its value, or that the expendi-
tures which the States make for schools alwa.ws vary
directly with the average wealth, or in the same ratio.
Educational ideals and traditions assert themseh-es, not to
speak of other material factors. Rhode Island is a
richer community than Massachusetts, Connecticut, or
New York, but she falls behind those States in her per
capita expenditure for schools. Virginia is but little
behind West Virginia in average wealth, but she is far
behind in popular education. The educational expendi-
tures of North Carolina, South Carolina, aud Georgia are
not commensurate with their educational resources. At
the same time, a general correspondence is observable. At
the North, Massachusetts, which is second only to Rhode
Island and New York in average wealth, leads the other
States in relative school expenditures; while Maine, tlu-
poorest of these States, stands at the foot of the list. At
the South, Maryland spends more money per capita for
332 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
education than any other State, and she is also richer
than any other; South CaroHna spends least of all and
she is the poorest of all. We may conclude, therefore,
that between wealth and schools a relation exists similar
to that between population and schools. If such .schools as
those of Saxony and Massachusetts cannot be looked for in
thinl}' populated States, neither can they be in poor States.
Furthermore the ratio of taxpayers, or of adult males,
to the number of children to be schooled, is an important
matter. Taking the country as a whole, there are 91 f*o
tax-payers for each 100 children 5 to 18 years of age; but
in different sections the ratio varies from 65 -i\ to 100, in
the South Central States, to 156-iV to 100 in the Western
States. In South Carolina there are but 55 adult males
to earn the money with which to .school 100 children, and
33 of these are colored men. Combining the taxpaj'er
factor and the per capita tax, some very striking results
are obtained. Dr. Harris informs us that in Montana a
contribution of $5.85 per taxpayer furnishes $16.02 for
each child of school age, while in Texas a contribution
of $6.55 per taxpayer produces a result of only $4.48
for each child. Mississippi, after raising, per taxpayer,
about half what Nevada raises, has only about one-eighth
as much as the latter State for each child of school age.^
The causes that affect the ratio of school children to the
adult male population are beside the present inquiry. It
is ol)vioi:s, however, that this is an educational factor of
much importance.^
> Report of the Commissioner of Ediication, j8go-iSgi, p. 24.
2 Considered in the light of the facts and views now presented,
certain provisions in some of the State school laws become ex-
tremely significant. For example, the laws of Alabama provided
a few years ago: When only one public school is established in a
township, it must be so located as to accommodate the largest
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 333
The view would be incomplete, even within the scope
of the present limits, unless something were said of the
portentous subject of illiteracy. The following table
shows the per cents of illiterate persons, ten years of age
and over, white, colored, and total, in the several groups
of States and in the whole country. The base of the
several computations is the total inimber of such persons,
ten years of age and upwards, in the several groups of
the States and in the United States.
WHITE. COLORED. TOTAL.
North Atlantic 5.9 24.2 6.2
South Atlantic 19.5 75.1 40.3
North Central 5.9 41.2 (5.7
South Central 21.0 76. 39.5
Western 8 8 33.2 11.3
UnitedStates 9.4 70. 17.
number of pupils; but the location may be changed from year to
year so as to accommodate those children who were not within
reach of the school in previous years. Preference should be given
to localities having a schoolhouse already built or a site procured.
If more than one school for each race be needed in a township,
more may be established by the local school officer. Preference
in locating schools should be given to the communities which will
supplement the district revenue, with the ol)ject of sustaining free
schools for so long a session as possible. No more than two
schools for either race can be opened in an}- township wherein the
school revenue for said race does not exceed $50. The school
revenue of each township is apportioned as nearly as practicable
per capita of the probable school attendance. Children may be
transferred to schools in other than their own school districts,
but they carry their share of the school revenue with them; and
if, after deliberation, it is determined not to have one public
school for each race opened in a township, and the children of the
race, so left without a school, cannot be transferred readily to
another school district, their share of the school revenue shall be
paid to the parents or guardians of said children; provided said
children attend some other school the same length of time.—
Report of the Commissioner of Education, 1885-86, p. 24.
334
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
THE NORTH ATLANTIC STATES.
STATES. WHITE. COI^ORED. TOTAL.
Maine 5.4 31.8 5.5
New Hampshire 6.8 23.3 (5.8
Vermont 6.7 21.3 6.7
Massachusetts 6.1 15.4 6.2
Rhode Island 9.6 18.5 8.8
Connecticut 5.1 15.8 5.3
New York 5.4 18.4 5.5
New Jersey 5.7 24.4 6.5
Pennsylvania 6.4 22.2 6.8
SOUTH ATLANTIC STATES.
STATE. WHITE.
Delaware 7.4
Maryland..* 7.
District of Columbia 2.7
Virginia 13.9
West Virginia 13.
North Carolina 23.
South Carolina 17.9
Georgia 16.3
Florida 11.3
COLORED.
TOTAL.
49.5
14.3
50.1
15.7
35.
13.2
57.2
30.2
44.4
14.4
60.1
35.7
64.1
45.
69.3
39.8
50.6
27.8
The District of Columbia presents the lowest rate of
white illiteracy found in the table given by the census
authorities. Of the States, the minimum per cent of
illiterates of the total population ten years of age and
upwards is found in Nebraska, 3.1; the maximum in
Louisiana, 45.8.
A series of charts that should adequately represent the
principal groups of social factors entering into popular edu-
cation in the United States would be very striking. For
example, the following, among other results, would ap-
pear:
SOCIAL FACTORS IX POPULAR EDUCATION. 335
I. Density of population per square mile of area.
North Atlantic vStates, 108.2.
South Atlantic States, 3L3.
II. Per cent, of urban population.
North Atlantic States, 51.58.
South Atlantic States, 16.04.
III. Per cent, of white population.
North Atlantic States, 98.4.
South Atlantic States, 63.2.
IV. ^Qalih. per capita.
North Atlantic States, 5;1,132.
South Atlantic States, $579.
V. Amount of money raised for schools per tax payer.
North Atlantic States, $9.73.
South Atlantic States, $4.48.
VI. Amount raised for each child of the school population.
North Atlantic States, $11.13
vSouth Atlantic States, $3 00.
VII. Number of adult males to each 100 children. 5 to 18 years
of age.
North Atlantic States, 114.4.
South Atlantic States, 66.8.
VIII. School expenditure/*^;' capita of the whole population.
North Atlantic States. $2. 76.
South Atlantic States, $0.96.
IX. School expenditure per pupil.
North Atlantic States, $23.65.
vSouth Atlantic vStates, $8.25.
X, Per cent, school population was of the total population.
North Atlantic States, 25.39.
South Atlantic States, 34.04.
XI. Number of children enrolled for every 100 children 5 to IS
years of age.
North Atlantic States, 70.
South Atlantic States, 59.47.
336 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
XII. Average number of pupils attending daily for every 100
enrolled during the year.
North Atlantic States, 66.
South Atlantic States, 62.
XIII. Average school term in days.
North Atlantic States, 168.
South Atlantic States, 99.6.
XIV. IlUterac}' per cent, of the total number of persons of the
several descriptions, ten years of age and upwards, who
are illiterate.
WHITE. COLORED. TOTAL.
North Atlantic States 5.9 24.2 6.2
South Atlantic States 19.5 75.1 40.3
The statistics that have been presented, which are but
a few of the many that are available for the purpose, are
capable of being combined in many interesting ways.
They also suggest many valuable reflections, of which a
few will be set down in order.
1. It is very observable that the several social factors
enumerated tend strongly to vary directly one with an-
other, thus furnishing a striking illustration of the unity
and coherence of society. The statistics also show that
efforts which are apparently remote from popular educa-
tion really affect it very decisiveh\
2. It is manifest that popular education in the United
States as a whole must, for a time, be carried on under
unfavorable conditions. Our vast territory, our sparse-
ness of population in large sections of the Union, the
physical conditions that will apparently long prevent dens-
ity of population, and a diversity of races, to say noth-
ing of economical, social, and educational ideals and
traditions, must all work to that end.
3. It is quite absurd to compare such a country as ours
in respect to education with the States of Germany, say
SOCIAL FACTORS IN POPULAR EDUCATION. 337
Saxony or Prussia, where the conditions are so widely
different. In the German States ilhteracy has been
practically annihilated ; but in our country it must lon^:
remain a serious factor in our civilization. Ma.s.sachu.setts
might be fairly compared with Saxony, or the United
States with Western Europe as a whole.
4. In the future, one cause that has greatly retarded
popular education, will become relatively less and less
prominent. From 1880 to 1890 the white population
increased 24.67 per cent.; the colored population 13.90
per cent. What is more, it is becoming apparent that the
race question will not prove a disturbing influence beyond
the present geographicallimits, and that within these lim-
its it will tend toward a vimimum.
5. It must not be supposed that the logic of this paper
dooms our country, or any large part of it that shall be-
come permanently settled, to ignorance. Great as are the
obstacles that confront us, they are not insurmountable.
Even as it is, marked progress has been made in twenty-
five 5-ears. The National Commissioner well says that,
taking all the facts into the account, it cannot but be a
matter of satisfaction that public education has made .such
progress in the South since the war as has actuallj^ been
the case. Still it is perfectly obvious that many of our
States cannot reach and maintain a high level of popular
education without great efforts and sacrifices. It is no ex-
aggeration to say that this end cannot be secured without
a scale of expenditures which, measured by the existing
wealth and wealth-producing population, would exceed
anything now .seen in this country, or probably in the
world.
6. The last observation is that education, under its prac-
tical aspects, cannot be discussed as a question by itself
l,egislatures, boards of education, school administrators,
338 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
and all organs of educational opinion should take
education in connection with the whole social and in-
tellectual environment, — population, wealth, commerce,
industry, the genius and traditions of the people, and
philosophical, religious, and moral ideas. The funda-
mental idea in an educational system must be the provision
of elementary education for the State or locality; but this
idea does not exclude special adaptations to particular
conditions. The manufactures and trade of New Jersey,
the wheat culture of the Dakotas, the mines of Colorado,
all become educational factors. Some recognition is
extended to these factors now; and as society becomes
more complex, particularly as industry and trade become
more diversified, this recognition will no doubt become
still greater
XVII.
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS
IN ROME.
HE church of S. Clemente, standing on the via
di S. Giovanni in I^aterano, which leads from
the Colosseum to S. John Lateran, is no unfit
type of the city of which it is such an interest-
ing feature. Entering the church by a side door upon
the street, and passing on through nave, aisles, and
chapel (in which last are found interesting frescoes by
Masaccio), you descend a wide marble stair to a second
church beneath the present one. This old church — so
runs the tradition— was built in the time of Constantine
the Great, on a spot of peculiar interest to the ecclesias-
tical mind. It was ruined — so the tradition runs again —
in 108-4, when Robert Guiscard, coming to the rescue of
Pope Gregory VII., burned the public buildings from the
Capitol to the Lateran. But so sacred a spot could not
be left waste and vacant: a new church, less imposing
and of smaller dimensions than the first one, was built
before the close of the century, or at least a pope appears
to have been elected within its walls in 1099. Tne
builders of the new structure did not take the pains to
clear away the remains of the old one; they rather did
what Roman builders have so often done at other times
and places — they filled in the walls with such material
as came to hand, and leveled the surface for the new
foundations, which were thus raised many feet above
330
340 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
the old ones. In this way, the church of the Imperial
period was buried up out of sight, and in time it was
forgotten. Such was the state of facts until 1857,
when the prior. Father Mullooly, of the Irish Domin-
icans, who own the church, in directing some repairs
on the upper structure, discovered the old structure.
Excavations now laid bare before the astonished gaze of
men extensive portions of the earlier church: a nave, two
aisles formed by a row of ancient columns made of differ-
ent marbles, old fragments of art, a small statue of the
Good Shepherd, pieces of sarcophagi, and numerous
paintings, frescoes, and inscriptions. The needed sup-
ports for the upper church were introduced, and the
lower one rehabilitated, and now, three times a year, the
old Church is illuminated and thrown open to the world;
at other times, the visitor to S. Clemente can see it on
payment of half a franc. It is a sight perhaps unique in
architecture — two churches, both of which may be used
for worship at the same time, standing to each other in a
relation similar to that of the stories of a single house.
But this is not all. One of the lower passage-ways was
found to run to a buried shrine of Mithras, the Persian
sun-god, whose mysteries were introduced into Rome by
the soldiers of Pompey the Great. But more than this,
beneath the old basilica there was discovered, in 1867,
a still earlier structure, which is supposed to be the house
of S. Clement, in which he is said to have built an oratory
at a time when it was yet dangerous for a man of prom-
inence at Rome to be a Christian. This house and spot
Christian tradition has identified, rightly or wrongly,
with the fellow-laborer of St. Paul (Phil, iv: 3), and the
third Bishop of Rome. We may therefore say that there
are here three Christian temples or houses of worship, the
second built above the first, and the third above the
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME. 34 I
second, belonging to widely different periods in the history
of the Church — the Primitive Age, the Imperial Age, and
Medieval and Modern Times — the whole series furnishing
a good symbol of the great city itself We habitually say
Rome, but we might say Roines, for really there are many
of them. Rome is not so much one city as several cities,
superimposed the one upon the other. True of all old
cities to a degree, this is peculiarly true of the City of the
Tiber. Despite the ruin that time has wrought, you can
study it in a series of sections that cut across the whole
life of the loacs, reaching from the days of the primitive
shepherds who came from the Alban Hills, by the kings,
the consuls, and the popes, to the days of King Humbert.
And it is to this fact that Rome owes so much of that
interest which, stay as long as one will, seems never to
grow old.^
A man of large humanity visiting Rome is little likely
to lose himself in material things or in the past. He
cannot become so absorbed in the Rome typified by the
oratory of S. Clemente, or by the imperial basilica, or by
the present church, as to be insensible to the men about
him. Are they not flesh and blood like himself? Do
they not comprise one of the Romes, the latest one, and
the most practical? The city offers to the visitor its
1 Professor Lanciani observes that the Romans of the Middle
Ages took advantage as well as they could of the existing ruins,
transforming them, or portions of them, into churches and con-
vents and ijrivate dwellings. After mentioning many such cases,
he observes: "Nearly one-half of the thousand and more
churches and shrines registered in Rome in the fourteenth century
were indicated by the titles— in thermis, in porticu, in maximis,
in archione, in formis, in palatio, in piscina." "The example set
by the clergy in appropriating the above descriptive terms was
followedclVselyby the noblemen of the age," as the Sevelli, the
Conti, etc.— Ancient Rome, Preface.
342 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
present, living, human problems as well as its dead and
antiquarian problems; and he must be made of stone,
particularly if he has followed on the historic page, or,
better still, in the current daily news, that stream of
Italian events which bears on from the fatal field of
Novara to the occupation of the Quirinal Palace by the
King of United Italy. He is rather the more interested
in the questions of the day by reason of their histori-
cal antecedents. The letters S. P. Q. R. fill you with
strange emotion when you see them on a steam fire-
engine, a police-station, or a garbage wagon, and still
more when you see them blazoned on the walls of a
modern schoolhouse. Such, at least, was my own feeling
when, in the Autumn of 1891, I found the hours of the
fleeting days all too few, use them as best I could, even
to dull the edge of curiosity. I shall venture to place
before my readers the results of some inquiries and obser-
vations made at the time, in relation to one of the most
practical of present interests.
The whole subject of Italian education deserves a fuller
presentation to the American public than it has yet
received ; but I shall attempt nothing more than a general
view of what was accomplished in popular education at
Rome in the twenty years following the downfall of the
Secular Power.
Previous to 1870, such a thing as a public .school was
wholly unknown to the Romans, and the very idea and
name were strange. The Pope ruled the city and prov-
ince, and his civil and political agents were ecclesiastics.
Education was wholly in the hands of priests; moreover
there was little of it, and this little poor in quality. This is
conclusively shown by the astonishing number of adult
persons, and particularly of women, who were wholly
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME.
343
unable to read and write. But on the incorporation of
the Papal States into the Kingdom of Italy , the system of
public education that Italian statesmen and educators had
been developing for some years preceding, was immmedi-
ately introduced, and has since been in operation, subject
to such changes as naturally attend a growing system
of schools in virgin soil in a time of great educational
activity. Although the difficulties to be overcome were
great, the results obtained the first 3'ear were anything
but discouraging, as the following table copied from
the official records for the scholastic year 1870-71, will
show :
Free City Day Schools for Boys
Free City Day Schools for Girls
Free City Evening Schools for Boys
Free City Feast Day Schools for Girls
Suburban and Rural Dav Schools for Roys
Suburban and Rural Day Schools for Girls
Suburban and Rural Evening Schools for Boys
Suburban and Rural Feast Day Schools for Boys. ..
01
J
H
0
0
M
a
<
u
■J
in
<J
14
44
8
29
8
30
9
1
15
1
Totals ,
2,5e4
1.183
1.983
494
40
24
6,->91
H S5
H <
2,304
1.049
1,336
391
30
21
5,331
The number of pupils examined in all the schools was 3,324; the number
promoted 1,518.
Such was the infancy of the public .schools of Rome.
If anyone thinks it a small beginning, he must remember
that Rome itself was not made in a day. Such explana-
tions as some of the terms call for will be deferred until
some further tables have been given. Since that first
year, the reports reveal encouraging progress along two
lines: The variety of schools maintained, or the range of
instruction provided, and the number of schools of all
kinds, of classes, and of pupils, which present still larger
ratios'. The following table will illustrate the progress
344
STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
that has been made along the second of these lines. The
dates occur at intervals of five years, save alone the last
interval, which is four years:
SCHOLASTIC
ATTEND-
YEAR.
SCHOOI.S.
CLASSES.
ENROLLED.
ANCE.
1870-71
41
12U
6,291
5,331
1875-7G
90
437
17,376
11,777
1880-81
155
616
21,311
15,909
1885-86
144
696
24,876
19,245
1889-90
142
624
26,149
19,951
A sectional view of the schools of the cit}- for the last
year included in the table is still more interesting.
Free City Day Schools for Boys
Free City Day Schools for Girls
Free City Evening Schools for Boys
l-"ree City Feast Day Schools for Girls
Suburban and Rural Day Schools for Boys
Suburban and Rural Day Schools for Girl.s
Suburban and Rural Fivening Schools for Boy.s ....
Sub\irbau and Rural Feast Day Schools for Girls..
Pay Elementary Day Schools for Boys
Pay Kltiutiitary Day Schools for Girls
Pay Kindergartens
Free Kindergartens
I'reparatory Schools for Ornamental Arts
Free Evening Schools for Artizans
Primary Courses in Schools for Artisans
Superior Female School Fusinato F^rminia Fera...
Professional Female School Via della Missione
Professional Female School Teresa Chigi Torlonia
Evening Commercial School for Boys
Feast Day Commercial School for Girls
Commercial School for Girls
Totals
182
244
43
51
2.=)
1.5
28
19
7
10
624
Bi
8,008
9,76.5
1,179
871
695
407
506
96
222
322
941
958
105
20^
06
698
1.59
180
217
74
26,149
6,519
8,009
794
658
496
308
.S33
69
189
258
358
152
179
64
693
157
151
209
67
19,519
The total number examined was 15,693, and the total number promoted
11,117.
This table is the more interesting by reason of the
strange terms that occur. They suggest to us a system
of popular education different in .some of its features from
our own. vStill, for the most part, these terms explain
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME. 345
themselves; only two or three call for explanation. The
feast-day schools for girls are held on Sundays and other
religious days, and they answer a purpose similar to the
purposes subserved by the evening schools for boys. It
must not be hastily concluded that such schools are neces-
sarily of little value; Church days are very abundant in
Ital}^ as in all other Catholic countries; and antecedently
there is no reason wh^' such schools should not be made
almost as efhcient as the continuation schools of Germany.
The suburban and rural schools lie outside of the city
walls. One of the most encouraging features of Roman
education is the marked prominence of schools for girls.
Of the 26,149 pupils enrolled, 11,818 were in boys'
schools and 14,831 in girls' schools. The last school on
the list was but three years old when the list was made up.
It took the girl at the age of fourteen or fifteen and car-
ried her through a three years' course of practical studies,
including two or three modern languages, with a view of
fitting her for a clerk, or accountant, in bnsiness life.
The word " professional" must not be taken too seriously.
The Professional School for Women in the Street of the
Mission is professional only in respect to domestic and
industrial arts. It is established in an old ecclesiastical
building, not at all convenient for its purposes, and gives
instruction to about eight hundred girls and young ladies
in literary and practical .studies. Reading, writing, com-
position, geography, arithmetic, drawing, literature, and
French are intermingled with dress-making, shirt-making,
wa.shing, ironing, cooking, the making of artificial flowers,
embroidery of various kinds, and other .similar arts. The
school has a regular course of study, and it allows to
pupils a certain liberty of choice of .studies. It is a most
interesting .school, and is full of promise for the Roman
women,
346 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
The cost of a system of schools at different times is
still another gauge of its growth. The cost of the Roman
system at intervals of five years is as follows:
1871 579,375 lire.
1876 1,064,097 "
1S81 1,434,662 "
1886 1,891,377 "
1889, the last year for which the cost is given 2,760,816 "
From ever}^ point of view the tables given above are
instructive and encouraging; thej- are just such tables as
inspire confidence in an educational statistician, revealing
as the}' do a continuous, normal growth. Much more,
these tables would show towards the end some of the col-
umns halting and even falling backward, but the ready
and true explanation is the great financial embarrassment
of the municipal and national governments in recent j^ears.
It will be seen that the number of classes increased more
than five-fold, and the number of pupils four- fold, within
the period that the exhibit covers. For a New England
or Western city of 400,000 people, 624 classes and 26,149
pupils in elementary schools maj' not be a very large show-
ing, but for Rome, in 1800, it was a most gratif3'ing one
Failing to find in the annual statement for 1890 a sum-
mary of the pupils in the several classes, I give the num-
bers for a single school. But they must be prefaced with
some remarks concerning the Italian method of grading.
At the bottom of the scale is found the osilo, which an-
swers in a general way to the German kindergarten.
Then follow the five elementar\^ classes, marked with
Roman numerals, I, II, III, forming what is called the
inferior course, and IV and \', the superior course. It
may be obser\-ed that, in the country schools and in towns
where the grading system is not fully carried out, the
asilo is not found, and most elementarv work is done in
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME. 347
the regular classes. These observations will make the
following table more intelligible:
ANALYSIS OF THE PUPILS IX THE SCHOOL REGINA
MARGHERITA.
C^^-^SS. BOYS. GIRLS. TOT.\I.S
Asilo 81 SS 14'.t
I 269 171 no
II 220 1)1 .Sll
III 102 59 l(;i
IV S9 39 128
V 54 19 73
Total 815 487 1,252
Most of the public schools of Rome are found in build-
ings erected for other than school purjDoses. The reason
is two-fold: the confiscation of Church property, convents,
monasteries, and the like, swept into the possession of the
State a multitude of buildings, the kingdom over, that
could be used for schools, while the insufficiency of public
revenues has prevented the erection of more suitable
structures. But some new ones have been built. The
School Regina Margherita, beyond the Tiber, is one of
the best in the city; it is one of the schools to which \'is-
itors are taken, for Italian school officers are as partic-
ular about such matters as are our own. It is the
school whose pupils are analj^zed above, and it must
be distinctly understood that some other schools would
not make as good a showing. Now, this school is in
some features the most admirable school-house that I
have ever visited. It is thoroughly modern in all its ap-
pointments; it is well constructed in every wa>-, lighted
and warmed, while the halls and cloak-rooms are well
arranged. The steps and principal flights of stairs are of
marble; the rooms are well furnished with maps and
other illustrative appliances; there are gymnasiimis for
348 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
boys and girls, and a bath-room for bo3^s, with a half
dozen douche baths; the carpenter shop is well supplied
with tools and models, and a prett}^ garden is found in the
rear of the building. A picture of King Humbert hangs in
every room. The building accommodates from 1,200 to
1,800 pupils, and emplo3\s thirty or more teachers. The
girls' classes are taught by women, and some of the boys'
classes also. A director and directress preside over the
two departments, for the sexes are kept separate. The
order is excellent, and much attention is paid to teaching
patriotism, decorum, and politeness. As I left the build-
ing, the severest criticism that I could make upon the
school authorities was that they had not sufficiently con-
sulted economy of space and money.
Elementary instruction in Italy does not compare favor-
ably with similar instruction found in the well-educated
countries, such as Germany and Switzerland. The com-
pulsory period is only three years, corresponding to the
inferior course, and even for that limited time the law is
not well enforced. The programme for the Province and
City of Rome embraces studies practically like those
found in corresponding grades in our own schools — the
Italian language, reading and writing, object lessons,
poems and prose extracts committed to memory, arith-
metic, geography, and histor}', the last of course of a very
rudimentary kind. The superior course embraces more
extended instruction in the foregoing studies, and calig-
raphy, physics, and natural history, free-hand drawing of
geometrical figures, rules of measurement, grammar, and
literature in addition. The course of the suburban and
rural schools is inferior to that of the city schools.
The Roman school year is ten months, beginning the
middle of October, and closing the middle of August.
American and Knglish residents say the instruction in
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN KOMi;. 1
49
the public schools is good, and my own limited obser-
vation tends to confirm their testimony. The attention
paid to patriotism, decorum, and politeness, may again
be remarked upon. There were, in 1891, about 600
teachers, 200 men and 400 women. Like Italian salaries
generally, teachers' salaries are low. This can be shown
by a table. At the close of Januarj^, 1892, there were em-
ployed in the public schools of Rome and its suburbs 582
teachers, of whom 188 were men and 394 women.
The following is an exhibit of the salaries that they
received:
MEN.
9 City Principals 3,000 lire.*
6 Rural Principals 2,200
171 City Teachers 2,400
54 " " 2,200
14 " " 1,%0
31 " " 1,W0
1 Rural Teacher 1,800
7 Rural Teachers l.fiOU
7 " " 1,200
3 " " 720
WOMEN.
14 City Principals 2,000
8 Rural Principals l.'^OO
49 City Teachers 2,100
44 "
65 "
74
134
19
2,000
1,800
1,500
1,200
800
on trial - .
2 Rural Teachers 1,400
6 " " 1,200
1 Rural Teacher 1,000
9 Rural Teachers (assistants), from 300 to 480
In Rome teachers' salaries are advanced once in five
years until the maximum is reached.
*A franc, worth 19;^ cents.
350 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
The depreciatory remark that has been dropped above
must be understood in a relative sense. Italy has not had
the educational experience of New England, of Germany,
or of France. Still, the statistics prove most conclusively
that a perceptible impression has been made upon the
dense masses of ignorance that the old regime bequeathed
to Modern Italy. An expressive word is found in Italian
educational statistics. It is analfabeti, unlettered, illiter-
ate, " unalphabeted," as one might say. Taking the
whole kingdom together, the percent of analfabeti,
irrespective of age, at the dates given, is as follows:
rEAR.
MALES.
FEMALES.
TOTAL
1861
72.40
83.73
78.06
1871
67.04
78.94
72.96
1881
61.03
73.51
67.26
Ominously enough, Rome does not appear in the statis-
tics previous to the downfall of the Secular Papacy; but,
from 1871 to 1881, the percentage of persons in the Com-
partment of Rome, above six years of age, who could
read, was raised, males, from 37.73 to 48.24; females, from
25.93 to 35.39, and the total from 32.32 to 41.84. As late
as 1888, 56.30 per cent, of the women, and 32.3 per cent,
of the men, entering into marriages weie unable to sign
their marriage papers and made their marks.
I shall close with a translation of the final paragraph of
the course of study prescribed for the Roman schools:
Duties. — without making the subject of their duties a special
matter of study or examination, the master should not neglect
opportunities for making his pupils sensible of the duties which
they owe towards God, towards their neighbors, and towards them-
selves; seeking above all to inspire them with a respect for justice,
and to cultivate such sentiments as constitute the most precious
patrimony of civilization, and may conduce to an orderly, peace-
able, and progressive state of society. It may be said that there is
no branch of teaching that cannot be led in this direction. In
TWENTY YEARS OF PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN ROME. 3SI
particular, the master must not neglect to avail himself of the
lessons in geography and history, in order to make the pupil
understand what sacrifices have been required to make the consti-
tution of Italy such as it is to-day, and how Italians can hope for
no security but in the maintenance of the national unity.
XVIII.
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN THE
SCHOOLS OF GERMANY.^
ROM an article now lying before me, written
by a well-informed American journalist, I
quote the following sentences:
The uuuiljcT of atheists in Germany is very
large. The number of skeptics — that is, of persons who have a
private religion of their own, the nature of which they consider
nobody else's business — is still larger. But larger than all is the
class who dislike and despise the clergy, and will on no account
permit them to educate their children. All these classes together
include a very large proportion of the German culture and intelli-
gence. . . . In no other country have the commercial and
professional men got so far away from the Church. They have, in
fact, got so far away that to the bulk of them American and
English piety is absolutely incomprehensible. '■^
This is from the secular standpoint. From the Ameri-
can Evangelical standpoint, Germany is the land of mate-
rialistic unbelief, of destructive Biblical criticism, of reli-
gious formalism, and of .spiritual coldness. To the zealous
American Christian the phrase "German rationalism"
suggests ideas and feelings quite as unwelcome as those
awakened by the phrase " French infidelity" one hundred
years ago. An educated German theologian and teacher
told me in Dresden that he had spent some time in
England, and that many men who were there accounted
heretics would in Germany be considered orthodox be-
' Berlin, February, 1892.
^ The Nation, February 4, 1892, p.. 81.
352
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 353
lievers. These facts are so well kiioAvn that they call for
no especial emphasis.
It is probable that some persons, looking at these facts
from a distance, would attribute them to deficient reli-
gious instruction in childhood. To one taking a superfi-
cial view of the subject, that would, perhaps, seem the
readiest and best explanation. Nevertheless, it would be
very wide of the mark. Whatever the causes of the
existing state of affairs may be, they are certainly
not lack of religious instruction in the formative period
of , life. In no states in the world is more attention
paid to the religious instruction of children than in the
German States; in no other Protestant states is so much
emphasis laid on the subject in public schools as in those of
North Germany.
For example, in Prussia and Saxony education is com-
pulsory on all children from six to fourteen years of age.
The laws are so stringent, and their administration is so
thorough, that illiteracy is practically annihilated. In
the great city of Berlin, there are not as many illiterate
men of the proper population as would fill one of the
large omnibuses that roll along the street. Still more,
the courses of study in the schools include formal didactic
religious instruction. In the elementary schools of Prus-
sia four hours a week for the whole eight years is de-
voted to religion, which is just the time that is given to
arithmetic, and is also one-seventh of the time gi\-en to
all subjects whatsoever. In the other schools, the regi-
men is quite as thorough. In the girls' high schools the
ratio of time devoted to religion to that devoted to all
subjects is 20 to 240; in the gymnasia, 19 to 304. In the
Saxon Normal Schools it is 28 to 272. In the universi-
ties, save in the theological faculty, the subject passes
wholly out of sight.
354 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
To present the subject still more fully, I give a tran-
script of the course in religion found in the elementary
schools of Saxony. The form is abridged, but the sub-
stance is retained. The Lehrplan begins with declaring
that religious instruction has for its object the de\-elop-
ment of religious, moral thoughtfulness, the awakening
of the corresponding feelings, and a true Christian life —
certainly a very noble ideal. This is the course: —
Class VIII., a. Bible historj-. — The Creation; Abraham and Lot;
Joseph; the birth of Moses and his flight from Egypt; the Law
given; the golden calf. Birth of Jesus; the wise men; Jestis 12
years old; marriage at Cana; heavy draught of fishes; the 5-outh at
Nain; Jairus's daughter; feeding the 5,000; Jesus blessing the
children; the Prodigal Son; the Good Samaritan. Early in the
year religious narratives from Bible history may be given in
advance.
Class VIL, a. Bible history. — Classes VII. -V., inclusive, will
review the history already given, as well as learn the new lessons:
The fall of man; Noah and the flood; call of Moses; Ruth; Ish-
mael; David and Goliath; David and Saul. The birth of John;
flight to Egypt; baptism of Jesus; storm at sea; the rich man and
Lazarus; entrance into Jerusalem; Jesus a prisoner, before the
council, before Pilate; death, burial, and resurrection.
Classes VIII. and VIL, b. — Explanation of verses; verses im-
pressed b}' repetition by the pupils. In Class VII. instruction
given about learning by heart portions of Bible history, or of
ether history of a religious nature, explained.
Class VI., a. Bible history. — Tower of Babel; Abraham's call;
Isaac's marriage; Jacob and Esau; Jacob's flight and reconcilia-
tion with Esau; death of Moses; entrance of Israelites into the
promised land; Saul king; David anointed; David king; Na-
both's vineyard. The apostles chosen; the centurion at Caper-
naum; Jesus at Bethesda; the ten lepers; the wicked servant; the
widow's mite; the blind man at Jericho; Jesus in Gethsemane, his
condemnation and ascension.
Class VI., b. Religious themes. — Apothegms, sentences, Bible
verses and history; the Shorter Catechism, etc., used in consider-
ing them. The duties of reciprocal love, gratitude, trust, obedi-
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 3:55
ence, and prayer deduced from God's love; conduct towards rela-
tives, teachers, fellow-students, strangers, the feeble, and the old;
modesty, reverence, sympathy, rights of property, conduct to-
wards animals, plants, and artistic work, etc., considered; also
care for the health, contentedness, frugality, etc.
Class v., a. Bible history. — Cain and Abel; promises to Abra-
ham; Sodom and Gomorrah; flight and call of Moses; Moses be-
fore Pharaoh; departure from Egypt; journey through the wilder-
ness; David's sin. Prophecy and birth of Jesus; teaching and
baptism of John; the palsied man; parable of the sower; the
Pharisee and the publican; Mary and Martha; the passover and
establishment of the Lord's Supper; Jesus a prisoner, before the
council, before Pilate, death, resurrection, and appearance after
death.
Class v., b. — Explanation of religious themes. Such themes to
be taken from the doctrine of the Church, the emphasis placed
upon the disposition and actions. Much that was treated iu
Class VI. to be reviewed; the following themes to be presented:
God's works, qualities, and waj's; Jesus, the Son of God, as
worker of miracles, teacher, and example; value of earthly and
heavenly possessions; results of good and evil; knowledge of sin,
temptation, repentance, forgiveness, concerning death, and the
future life.
In Classes IV. and III. Bible history is to be presented in its
connection, as a history of the kingdom of God on earth. Id
Class IV. the Old Testament is taken; in Cla.ss III. the New
Testament. In both classes, at the high church feasts. New Testa-
ment history relative thereto taken for religious meditation.
Knowledge of the Holy Land acquired in connection with Bible
history.
Class IV., a. Old Testament history taken in preceding classes
reviewed. The offering of Isaac; times of the Judges; David's
persecutions; Absalom's revolt; the temple built; the kingdom
divided; Elijah and Elisha; the Assyrian captivity; Tobias; the
Babylonian captivity; Daniel; return from Babylon.
Class IV., b. Instruction in Catechism.— The first chapter and
first article; the commandments; instructions concerning life in
parish and State, love of country, family life; true and f dse pleas-
ures; value of health and other worldly goods; trust in God, con-
356 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
tentment, hopeful foresight, absence of sinful desires and danger-
ous passions, etc.; in a word, whatever can equip the children
with a true knowledge of life, inspire them with good designs and
a feeling for truth, and strengthen in them right and virtue.
Class III., a. New Testament history continued. — Presenta-
tion of Jesus in the Temple; his temptation; conversation with
the woman of Samaria; parable of the tares; death of John; the
Canaanitish woman; the deaf and dumb man; workers in the
vinyard; transfiguration; raising of Lazarus; the angry vineyard-
keeper; Zaccheus; the ten virgins; last judgment; Jesus appears
at Emmaus; out-pouring of the Holy Spirit.
Class III., b. Instruction in the Catechism. — The second and
third articles of the first chapter, and the third chapter.
Classes II. and I., a. Bible knowledge. — The aim is not
merely to instruct concerning the Bible, but also, through read-
ing and explanation of chapters, to introduce the contents of the
most important books. The finding of books and chapters of the
Bible constantly practiced. Continued attention given to the
geography of the Holy Land.
Class II., b. The Catechism. — Treatment of the first chapter,
first article, and the doctrine of the sacraments after the words
pronounced by Jesus at the institution of the Eucharist.
Class I., b. The Catechism. — Treatment of the second and third
articles, and the third, fourth, and fifth chapters.
This is the course prescribed for the State Evangelical
schools of Saxony. In the State Catholic schools the
instruction follows Catholic lines, while children of other
churches that are recognized by the State may be taught
according to their respective faiths. But the main fact
is, that the above course, or its equivalent, is just as com-
pulsory as the courses in geography, in language, or in
history. The law leaves no loophole for escape. A
father may indeed .send his child to a private school, or
have him taught at home, but the State follows the child
to see that the legal quantum of religious instruction is
given. In effect, the policeman stands behind the Bible
and the Catechism. How very thorough the enforcement
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 357
of the law is in Prussia, is shown by the royal decrees
determining authority and responsibility in respect to
religious instruction. The following is a summary of the
principal of these decrees: —
(1). Decision as to the character of religious instruction depends
principally upon the father.
(2). It is the father's duty to see that the child receive religious
instruction conformable to his faith and condition in life.
(3). Children born in wedlock must receive instruction in the
religion of the father.
(4). No legal contracts can be made to change the rule siih 3.
(5). In the case of mixed marriages, agreements made before or
at marriage to train the children in the religion of the mother
have no legal force.
(6). If father and mother, however, agree as to the religious
instruction their children are to receive, no third person has
authority to interfere.
(7). At the death of the father, the religious instruction in
his faith must be continued.
(8). No attention is to be paid to death-bed conversions to
another faith.
(9). If, however, the child has received, the last entire year
before death of father, religious instruction according to the
mother's faith, this instruction mu.st be continued until the said
child be fourteen years of age.
(10). After the death of the father, it becomes the duty of the
court for guardianship {Vormundschaftsgericht) to see that the
child receive religious instruction according to law.
(11). Children born out of wedlock receive, until 14 years of
age, religious instruction according to the faith of the mother.
° (12). They who assume care of a child abandoned by his parents
acquire the rights of parents, and, therefore, decide as to the
character of religious instruction until said child be 1 4 years of age.
(13). The same rule holds good in the case of adopted children,
(14), When 14 years of age, children can decide for themselves
as to the religious denomination to which they will belong.
(15). Before 14 years of age, no religious denomination can
receive a child or permit an open confession of faith other than
that to which said child belongs by law. * ^
I Parsons: Prussian Schools through American Eyes, pp. 21, 22.
358 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
Two cardinal ideas underlie these decrees. The first
is that every man belongs to some church, and the second
that his children, up to the age of fourteen years, belong
to the same church The first of these ideas is a survival
from the time when every nation or state had one national
church or religious establishment, to which e^'ery mem-
ber of the state belonged just as naturally and necessarily
as he belonged to the national government. In other
words, the State and the Church were simply the secular
and the religious sides of the same society. The Protes-
tant Reformation, by destroying religious unity in Ger-
many, compelled the recognition of a plurality of churches,
and demolished the theological basis of the State-
Church theory, but it did not destroy the idea that
every man belongs to some church, that his children
come into the world wearing the same church ticket
that he wears, and that the state must see that they
are taught the doctrines of his church. Of course, if
the state is to teach religion in confessional schools the
' ' ticket ' ' plan is the only one that can be practically
followed.
To make it possible to carry out these decrees, the
schools of cities and towns where the conditions admit of
it are organized on a confessional or church basis. The
religious instruction given in the mixed schools of the
rural districts is governed by the religion of the plurality
of the children in attendance, or of the families to which
they belong. Still, where twelve children in such school
demand it, or their parents for them, they receive reli-
gious instruction conformable to that of the church to
which they belong, and, to make this the more easy,
schools are united for this purpose wherever it is conve-
nient to do so. The following table will show how the
system worked in Prussia in 1886 :
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 359
NO. OF
SCHOOI,S. TEACHKRS. PUPILS.
Protestant 23,122 41,539 2,993,852
Catholic 10,061 19,632 1,613,497
Other Christians 12 31 870
Jewish. 318 407 13,270
Mixed 503 3,141 216,758
Total 34,016 64,750 4,838,247
In 318 of the mixed schools there were special religious
teachers; 54,950 Catholic pupils attended Protestant
schools, and 25,878 Protestant pupils Catholic schools.
It must not be supposed, however, that we are here deal-
ing with Church schools; on the contrary, these are all
State schools, but State schools divided with reference to
the kind of religious instruction given in them.
But we are here concerned wnth the moral results of the
course. The main question is, how the present religious
condition of Germany can exist side by side with such a
regimen of religious instruction as is found in the schools.
This is one of the most important practical questions that
religious men in Germany, and particularly teachers and
preachers, can possibl}'" ask. Still, it may be doubted
whether many of them often do ask it, if indeed, they ever
do. It is an important practical question for English-
men, and particularly of the Established Church. It
is important also in the United States, but less so than
in the other countries just named. It is a question well
worthy of consideration at the hands of all those who are
engaged in the work of religious and moral training. If
a full and conclusive answer cannot be given, a partial
one may not be without value. All that I can do is to
state some of the principal considerations that would
enter most deeply into a thorough treatment.
360 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
It should be premised that the failure is not due to any
lack of thoroughness in the course of study, or to
any laxity in the directions given to teachers. The
reader must be impressed by that fact. The course
begins with stating the objects of religious instruction, viz. :
To promote religious, moral thoughtfulness through Bible
history and the teachings of the Church, to make religious
truths and moral ideas clearly understood, to awaken the
corresponding feelings, and thereby to lay the foundation
for a true religion and a good moral life. The Bible
narratives chosen by the teacher are to be of religious
purport. The teacher is fully to explain the lessons, and
the pupil is to commit verses and passages of Scripture to
memory. The moral lessons are of the most practical
kind, and are to be deduced from religious principles.
The Catechism is introduced. It is declared that with
the attainment of a clear understanding of a doctrine,
comes the awakening of a religious feeling. Religious
meditation is to be secured, and the religious element
in the commandments emphasized. The Bible lessons
are to be explained in connection with the songs that
are sung and the parts of the Catechism that are taught,
and are also to be associated with Sundays and religious
holidays. The course is marked by the skill shown by the
German pedagogists in all similar work, and the more
carefully it is studied the more, pedagogically speaking,
it will be admired. Why, then, is it so largely nugatory
and fruitless of results ?
The first fact to be considered is the Established
Churches of the German States, Protestant and Catholic.
There are also certain religious organizations that are
called "recognized," which means that they are legal
persons, entitled to own property and to carry on public
worship, subject only to the general laws of the land. In
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 361
Prussia these are the separatist Lutheran and Reformed
Churches (consisting of those Lutherans and Calvinists
who have never come into the State Protestant Church
resulting from the union of 1817), and the Jews, the
Baptists, the Mennonites, and the Moravians. The non-
recognized Churches are not legal persons, and can own
property and hold public w^orship only under special
arrangements. Here come in the Methodists, the Irving-
ites, and other small sects. Not wishing to encourage
sectarian divisions, the government is slow to recognize
religious societies. The recognized and non-recognized
groups are few in number, and the great establishments
control the principal religious forces of German3\
The German religious statistics, unlike our own, are
given in great masses. For 1890 they stand as follows:
Protestants 31,026,810
Roman Catholics 17,674,921
Other Christians 145,540
Jews 667,884
Unclassified 13,315
The State Churches have the limitations that always
surround such bodies. These are reliance on the govern-
ment, and lack of individual initiative; the relegation of
Church work to the clergy and the absence of an active
lay element, and particularly of a woman element;
the supremacy of the State; the tendency of religion to
lapse into routine officialism, — in a word, pronounced
tendencies towards a dead indifferentism in faith and cold
inertness in religious life. In England the Established
Church is vital and active, largely because it is constantly
stimulated by the powerful influence of Nonconformity,
while the revenues of the Church are by no means suf-
ficient for its purposes and it is compelled to appeal con-
stantly to the voluntary principle. The case is very dif-
362 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
ferent in Germany: Nonconformity is not an important
factor in religious affairs. The ministers of the Evan-
gelical Church are appointed by the State, and to a great
extent paid by it, a dependence that tends to create any-
thing but real fitness for their work. Preaching is mainly
expository and doctrinal, tending to dulness, and not
taking much hold of the heart and the life. While it
must not be supposed that there are no religious men and
no piety in Germany, it is still a fact that the splendid
liberality and activity shown by the voluntary churches of
America and England are practically unknown. For
instance, there is not a parish in Berlin belonging to
either one of the Established Churches that would, for a
moment, think it could build a church for itself Is it
not the business of the State to build churches? Accord-
ingly German piety is about as incomprehensible to an
American as American piety is to a German.
Again, since the two great Churches are a part of the
government, the}' share the opposition that is made to
the government. In the eyes of the discontented classes,
ministers and the Church are no better than the rest of
the State machinery. Religion necessarily becomes
a part of politics. The Catholics and Conservatives
are strongly religious, or rather ecclesiastical, while men
of progressive views in politics commonly tend more or
less to liberalism, unbelief, or atheism. The current
socialism is almost wholly atheistic.
The bearing of these facts on the sterility of the
religious instruction given in the schools .should be
evident to the dullest mind, at least outside of Germany.
To the Socialists, for example, the teachers who give the
instruction in theological dogmas and Bible lessons are
teaching what they consider the most odious part of the
system of oppression under which they groan. They
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 363
rebel at the thought of having such lessons forced down
the throats of their children with the policeman's sabre.
Secondly, the unbelief, indifferentism, and inertia that
are so characteristic of German religion also mark the
teaching of religion in the schools. Probably some im-
moral persons find places and hold places in the schools;
far larger is the number who are rationalistic or atheistic in
their opinions; while largest of all is the class that, what-
ever their formal religious status may be, have no real
heart in this part of their work. The grand result is that,
while there are many really religious teachers, and much
excellent teaching, the system, as a whole, tends to dull
routine and perfunctory officialism. Not long ago a
Jewess advertised in one of the Berlin papers for pupils as
a private teacher, putting in the list of her qualifications
this one — that she could teach any religion that might be
desired! Even a pious man may be forgiven for shaking
his sides at such monstrous absurdity, but it is a legiti-
mate result of the State's attempting to teach religion
after the German fashion. To the majority of pupils
' ' religion ' ' becomes merely a study, like arithmetic or
geography; they " take it," as they take mathematics or
science; and although they may acquire some facts in so
doing, and so receive some mental enlightenment, their
hearts are not warmed or their wills strengthened thereby.
The Saxon course states : ' ' With the attainment of a clear
understanding of a doctrine, comes the awakening of a
moral, religious feeling. ' ' This is so unmistakably erron-
eous that the Saxon pedagogists should not have fallen
into the error.
Lastly, the connection between teaching dogmas, or
abstract lessons of any kind, and real life is by no means as
intimate as the majority of men suppose. If there are any
lessons in the world that will wither under mere routine or
364 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
formal teaching; if there are any lessons that, to be fruit-
ful, must be touched by the influence of a warm heart and
a good life, they are morals and religion. The concrete
precedes the abstract; example is better than precept; life
is more than theory. Still, these facts are in practice
constantly ignored or forgotten. In the face of a
uniform experience that character is formed and life
shaped by personal influences far more than by for-
mal didactic instruction, multitudes of men constantly
assume that the catechism, the lesson-leaf, the sermon,
and the Bible are the great factors in moral and reli-
gious training.
Not very long ago it was commonly thought that the
public school was a powerful moral safeguard of the indi-
vidual and of society. And so it is. Still, we are coming
to see that nothing is easier than to exaggerate the moral
value of school studies. The fact is that the ethical bearing
of general studies upon men is by no means as direct and
powerful as some have been wont to think. Something
more than the spelling-book and the arithmetic is necessary
to make good men and women. A further mistake that we
have yet to correct is this — that we have also overestimated
the spiritual value of moral and religious ideas, simply as
intellectually apprehended and received. There can be
no greater pedagogical mistakes than the assumptions
that the intellectual perception of a doctrine or truth
is necessarily followed by the corresponding feelings,
and that the feeling when aroused necessarily mani-
fests itself in conduct. Sound doctrine is indeed im-
portant; but all history bearing on the subject tells us
that it is futile, and even absurd, to send a man into
a pulpit or a school to preach to men or teach them, no
matter what the doctrine may be, unless he is morally
superior to his audience or class.
RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN GERMAN SCHOOLS. 365
I am far from saying that religious instruction in the
schools of Germany is not productive of good results.
Undoubtedly, it is productive of such results. Perhaps,
in the existing state of things, the course in religion is
indispensable. But it is evident that it is not accomplish-
ing the results that its authors expect from it, and that it
never can accomplish them. This has been practically
admitted, at least as to the first statement, by the Prussian
government itself. The Kmperor-king and his ministers
are now seeking to carry through the Diet an educational
bill that contains features relating to religious instruction
in schools besides which those enumerated above are mere
child's play. Its fate is doubtful, but the great argument
that is urged in its favor is that more stringent measures
are necessary in order to check the rising tides of atheistic
socialism. Count Von Caprivi, the Prime Minister, has
said in debate: "The question before us is not one of
Protestantism against Catholicism, but of Christianity
against Atheism. There is a spirit abroad which makes
itself daily more and more felt, and which is peculiarly
visible in the schools of Berlin — the spirit of Atheism.
With a purely moral education not founded on Christian
principles, we would have but little success with the
children of the people. We have before us a struggle
with the spirit of unbelief, which is not necessarily identi-
cal with the social democracy. In face of this great
danger, we desire at least to erect a barrier. Do not, I
pray you, by agitation excite the masses, who are not
capable of judging on this question. In face of this
danger, Germans will learn to live together in peace.
We shall soon see whether the bill passes, and if it passes
we shall see later whether the remedy proposed cures the
disease, or, as is far more probable, still further aggra-
vates it.
366 STUDIES IN EDUCATION'.
There is, to be sure, another side to the question. Omit-
ting the Catechism and the more dogmatic parts of the Bib-
lical teaching, the Saxon course would be an admirable one
in many respects to introduce into the schools of the United
States. The argument that would justify it, however,
would relate to history and literature quite as much as to
morals and religion. The Bible is a great book of litera-
ture and history. It is the classic of the most cultiv'ated
parts of the world. It has furnished to letters a vast
number of themes and an enormous amount of thought-
material and inspiration. Its geographj', scenery, events,
and language have passed, literally or symbolically, into
the vocabulary of Christendom. None save those who
have made it the subject of somewhat careful study, are
aware how far the very forms of our thoughts, as well as
the thoughts themselves, have come to us from the
Bible. In an historical and literary point of view, it is
therefore little less than a calamitj' that the youth of the
land should grow up, as so many of them are now
doing, in comparative ignorance of its contents. There
is indeed no good reason for rating highly the value of
such formal religious instruction as can be given in
public schools. Still, the ethical value of such a course as
the foregoing, with the emendations suggested, would be
something, perhaps considerable, and particularly if teach-
ers, not making this element obtrusive, should leave the
lessons to carry their own morals. Whether or not, under
existing conditions, such a course could be successfully
introduced, is quite another question.
XIX.
EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND.
HE month of August witnessed some notable
Swiss anniversaries. On the first of the
month the Confederation celebrated the sixth
centennial, and on the fifteenth the City of
Bern the seventh, centennial of its foundation. Everybody
who paid serious attention to these celebrations must have
reflected that the position of Switzerland in history, and
in the current life of the world, is much more important
than her territory, her population, and her natural
resources would demand, or perhaps even justify; and
the time has not too far gone by to offer some remarks
upon one of the causes that have produced this disparity
and so tended to make the celebrations significant.
The break down of the Roman Empire left considerable
culture in Switzerland that the floods of barbarism never
wholly swept away. The Irish monks, who were the
evangelists of education as well as of religion, visited this
country, as the}' did so many others of Western Europe.
St. Gall, so famous in the histor};- of both letters and piety,
was founded in the eighth century by Columban's disciple
of that name. Switzerland also received her share of
advantage from the liberal educational ideas and policy of
Charlemagne, of whose vast empire it was a part. And
all along the way from that time to this, century by
century, we find interesting facts in the history of Swiss
culture, as the humanistic training of Zwingle, the Swiss
1 Geneva, October, 1891.
367
368 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
reformer and friend of Erasmus, and the founding of the
Universities, which have borne such an honorable part
in the work of liberal education. Still, we find nothing
that gives the Swiss an exceptional educational standing
until we near the close of the last century. Rousseau,
citizen of Geneva and author of " Emile," quickened
educational thought, especially on the French side of the
Confederacy. But it was Pestalozzi who really ushered
in the new era. Seizing the bold ideas that form the
heart of the sense-realistic school of pedagogy, this great
reformer made Stanz, Burgdorf, Neuhof, and Yverdon
classic names in the annals of human culture, and gave
popular education an immense impetus, not only in
Switzerland, but all over the civilized world. Frcebel,
with all his mysticism, stands for that enlargement of the
same ideas which have become so potent a factor in the
kindergarten methods, and Father Girard, "The Catholic
Pestalozzi," to whose noble memory a statue has been
dedicated at Freiburg, while not the equal of the other
two, completes the trinity of great Swiss pedagogists.
Withal, far-seeing statesmen have given the thoughts
of these great thinkers practical realization instate polic3^
No country is more thorough!}' committed to public edu-
cation of the highest order. It should also be observed
that the more progressive Cantons have recently recon-
structed their school systems, introducing many foreign
ideas.
Education in Switzerland is a matter of both Federal
and Cantonal concern. These are the provisions of the
Federal Constitution in regard to the subject: —
The Confederation has a right to establish, besides the existing
Polytechnic School, a Federal University and other institutions
of higher instruction, or to subsidize institutions of such nature.
The Cantons provide for primary instruction, which shall be
EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND. 369
sufficieut, aud shall be placed exclusively under the direction of
the secular authority. It is compulsory and, in the public schools,
free.
The public schools shall be such that they may be frequented
by the adherers of all religious sects, without any offense to their
freedom of conscious or of belief.
The Confederation shall take the necessary measures against
such Cantons as shall not fulfill these duties.
A delay of five years is allowed to Cantons for the establishment
of free instruction in primary public education.^
The constitution of 1848 authorized the foundation and
maintenance of a National Polytechnic School and a Na-
tional University. The first was founded in 1855, one of
the foremost in the world, but no steps have been taken to
found the second. The Polytechnic School met an actual
want; while the existing Cantonal universities were not
only sufficient to meet the needs of the country, but they
were supported by interests too powerful o permit the
establishment of a formidable competitor. It will be
seen that the Swiss constitution, unlike our own, which
is wholly silent upon the subject of education and schools,
declares that the Cantons shall make primary instruction
sufficient, compulsory, and free. And yet the states-
rights principle is vigorous. The declaration that the
secular authority shall control the pitblic schools, and that
they shall be such that they may be attended by the
adherents of all religious sects, are explained by the
religious divisions of the country, past and present, and
by the growth of the secular spirit. The schools are thor-
oughly secularized. No ecclesiastical or clerical person is
allowed to teach in the State schools.
The provision in regard to compulsion is first found in
the Federal Constitution of 1874, but it had appeared in
the constitution of Bern as early as 1846, Any one who
* Article 27, and Temporary Provision, Article 4.
37© STUDIES IX EDUCATION.
has observed the difficulty with which compulsory educa-
tion is made effective, particularly in democratic states,
and who also reflects on the manifest disadvantages that
a federal government attempting that task must encounter,
cannot help asking what steps the Swiss government has
taken in this direction, and what success has attended
them. The fact is, it has never attempted directly to
enforce this clause, but has left coercion mainly to the
Cantons. This is partly because the Cantons have shown
a commendable zeal in the matter, and partly because it
would be very difficult to procure the necessary Federal
legislation in the first place, and still more difficult to en-
force it afterwards. Indirectly something is done, a good
deal, in fact. The laws in regard to the employment of
children in certain kinds of manufacturing establishments,
like similar legislation in England and America, have an
educational bearing and effect. But, more than this, the
constitution binds every Swiss citizen who is not dis-
qualified to perform military service, and the Federal law
creates an effective system of instruction and drill. The
existing law requires a literary as well as a medical
examination of all j^oung men on attaining their
majorit}', thus creating a strong safeguard against popu-
lar ignorance. Mr. Vincent puts the case very mildly
in his late work on the Swiss Government when he says
that by " examinations the state of primary educa-
tion in the various Cantons is exhibited, and by the publi-
cation of the .statistics an honorable rivalry in this field is
encouraged.'" He should have added that such recruits
as are found wanting, are required to make up their de-
ficiencies, and that special instruction is provided for this
purpose. In 1882 it was proposed to add a Secretar}' of
Education to the number of secretaries constituting the
' State and Federal Government of Switzerland, p. 92.
EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND.
371
Federal Executive; the people, on its submission to them,
votsid it down, and, such is the opposition to strengthening
the Confederacy at the expense of the Cantons, there is
little probability of the attempt being renewed.
The annual reports of the educational examinations of
recruits are interesting documents in more respects than
one. The report of the examinations held in the Autumn
of 1890, now before me, contains 40 quarto pages. In
addition to the statistical tables showing the results
throughout the Confederation by Cantons and districts,
we find considerable valuable discussion, and a double-
page chart showing the larger facts in color. Quite
marked differences in the education of the people appear.
The best Cantons compare favorably with the States of
North Germany. While the German and the French
Cantons, other things being equal, are on the same foot-
ing, the Italian Cantons fall far into the rear. The con-
trast between the Protestant and the Catholic Cantons, is
pronounced. Not only do the Protestant Cantons, as
a rule, surpass the Catholic, but in the latter the edu-
cational standard is higher in tlie proportion that they
have been touched by modern progressive influences.
Zurich, for example, makes an excellent showing; but
that Canton, whose educational institutions date from the
reign of Charlemagne, contains the largest cit}^ in the
Confederation, and, next to Geneva, has the densest popu-
lation. Protestant controversialists, noticing the general
contrast between the two classes of Cantons, have been
prompt to ascribe it solely to religion. But it should be
observ^ed that the Catholic Cantons are commonly the
more mountainous, the le.ss thickly populated, the poorer,
and the more backward. These facts should not be
separated; they afford an excellent example of the inter-
action of social forces, or of the mutuality of cause and
372 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
effect. Change any one of these factors, and you change
all the others.
The Educational Year Book for 1889 shows 21,689
pupils in kindergartens, 425,012 in primary schools,
34,817 in continuation schools and schools for recruits,
27,254 in secondary schools, and 10,845 in private schools
of various kinds. The total Volkssclndstuffe was 547,928
pupils. The continuation schools {^Fortbildimgschiden) ,
held mainly on evenings and Sundays, afford pupils who
have left the primary schools an opportunity to carry
their studies two or three years further. The same j^ear
there were in the so-called middle schools — normal schools,
gymnasia, industrial schools, etc. — 19,182 students, and
in the higher institutious 3,611. The grand total is 568,-
721. How many of these are foreigners cannot be told;
but were the necessary subtraction made, the showing
would still be a striking one.
Equally creditable to the Swiss are their educational
expenditures. The Cantons, including the Federal
appropriation for the Polytechnicum, appropriated 12,-
972,262 francs; the local authorities {Gemeinden) , 17,103,-
814 francs, or a total of 30,076,081 francs. Of this sum
nearly 19,000,000 francs went to the primary schools, and
something more than 4,000,000 to the secondary schools.
In other words, primary education, the country over,
cost 40 francs, and secondary education 151 francs, to
the scholar. Such Cantons as Uri, Schwyz, and Unter-
walden-Nied expend but 3 francs per inhabitant for edu-
cation; but Ziirich, Shaffhausen, and Basel 15, 16, and
24 francs respectively. The small expenditures go, of
course, with the sparse and small populations. The aver-
age for the Confederation is a little more than 10 francs
per inhabitant.
EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND.
zn
It will be seen that the scope of Swiss education is
modern and comprehensive. Particular attention is paid
to the practical applications of knowledge, as the tech-
nical, pol3-technic, and industrial schools show. The
schools of horolog}', of which there are several, illustrate
how a leading industry affects education. The noble
Polytechnicum at Ziirich has a hundred professors and
instructors and 992 students. The seven higher institu-
tions have 434 professors and instructors and 3,554 stu-
dents and auditors.
Perhaps the force of the presentation will be increased
by narrowing the view. Basel-Stadt, which is co-exten-
sive with the City of Basel, contains 10 square miles and
a population of 74,247 souls. In 1889 it had 11,405
pupils in ]/olksschulen, 2,376 in middle schools, and 455
in higher schools, making a total of 14,536. She ex-
pended for education the same j^ear 1,804,108 francs, or
about S360,000, Nor does this take into account what
Basel contributes by the way of the Federal treasury.
lyCt it be particularly noted that this little State supports
a celebrated universit}', having four faculties, 70 profes-
sors and instructors, and more than 450 students. Geneva,
also, which has no doubt exercised a wider influence than
any other city of its size since Athens, makes a showing
that is very difQcult to parallel.
Pains are taken that teachers shall be qualified for their
work, and that their work shall be well done. Every
teacher must have a normal-school training. A .diploma
from an authorized school of this rank is a certificate to
teach in the elementary schools. Government inspection
is universal, extending to private schools as well as public.
Bern, with 100,000 children in her primary schools, em-
ploy's twelve inspectors, who are appointed by the Cantonal
council on the nomination of the minister of education.
374 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
As there are 25 Cantons and half-Cantons, each with its
own independent government, there are 25 school systems.
With many divergencies, the systems of the best Cantons,
like our best States, tend to uniformity' of organization
and machinery. Some Cantons have councils and minis-
ters of education; some have councils and no ministers,
and some ministers and no councils. The ministers,
where they are found, are always members of the Can-
tonal Executive Councils; for it must be remembered that
in Switzerland there are no presidents and governors. The
teaching body has a decided influence upon educational
administration, but the minister is usualh' a politician
and not a teacher. Books and courses of study are
uniform throughout the Canton.
The schools are immediately controlled by the Cantonal
government, or by boards similar to our boards of educa-
tion; but both councils and boards, particularly in the
more democratic Cantons, are closely limited in power by
the popular assemblies. Teachers are sometimes chosen,
as in Geneva, b}' the executive council; sometimes b}' the
local board, as in the City of Bern; sometimes by the
people themselves, as in many rural districts. In Bern
the election is for six j-ears. A high authority tells me
that in this Canton the teacher's tenure is good when
once he is elected, but that first elections are sometimes
controlled by other considerations than fitness. For ex-
ample, he saj'S when the people elect, the teacher is pretty
apt to belong to the churchof the majorit5\ This gentleman
condemns the popular elections of teachers, as he does also
the furnishing of books by the State, which is sometimes
done, and the teaching of more than one language in the
primar}' schools.
Measured by American standards, salaries are low.
No elementary teacher in Bern receives as much as ?1,000,
EDUCATION IN SWITZERLAND.
375
and many receive less than S200. However, a majority
of teachers are furnished a house, a piece of ground, and
wood, in addition to the salary set down in the list. Then
the preference for male teachers is strong throughout the
Confederac}-; even in the primar}^ schools there are 6,180
male teachers to 2,970 females. In the secondary schools
the respective numbers are 1,168 and 205. In the pri-
mary schools, at least, no difference is made in salary on
account of sex. It must be remembered that the whole
scale of incomes and expenditures is low in Switzerland
as compared with the United States. Members of the
Federal Legislature receive but 20 francs a day; members
of the Federal Executive but 12,000 francs a 5'ear. The
maximum university salary is 12,000 francs, the min-
mum 300 francs, while the average ranges from 3,156
francs in Ziirich to 4,580 in Basel.
Such is an imperfect sur\'ey of one of the groups of
facts that rendered the August anniversaries important
events. Switzerland has an area of about 16,000 square
miles, and a population of about 3,000,000 souls. To-
gether, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island
are somewhat less in size, and somewhat more in popula-
tion. An educational parallel between the Confederation
and the three States would be extremely interesting.
This certainly would appear in both cases, that the
essential elements of greatness in States are not material
but spiritual.
XX.
THE BACKWARDNESS OF POPULAR
EDUCATION IN ENGLAND.^
WO facts stand out with prominence in mod-
ern educational history. The first is that
England has been very slow to enter on that
general movement towards universal educa-
tion which is one of the most significant facts of recent
times. The other is that England has also been very
backward in respect to the organization of such education
as she has had. To an extent these are but different as-
pects of one grand fact. Had the efiiciency of public
education at any time equaled that of Scotland, Germany,
the United States, or France, it would have compelled
more order and system; while, on the other hand, a
properly organized and administered system would have
carried instruction to a far greater height. It is not easy
to say in which particular the inferiority of England is
the more marked. Whatever the truth may be, it will
conduce to a good understanding of the state of things
that long existed, and that has not yet been wholly
changed, to state some of the more important causes that
produced it.
The first thing to be considered is the English Church.
The Protestant Reformation gave education and schools
an enormous impulse. ' * The Reformed religion rests on
a book, the Bible," De Eaveleye has said. "The Pro-
testant therefore must know how to read. . . . Cath-
» London, May, 1892.
376
THE BACKWARDNESS OF EDUCATION IN ENGLAND. 377
olic worship, on the contrary, rests upon sacraments and
certain practices, such as confession, masses, sermons,
which do not necessarily involve reading. ' ' In England
alone, of all the countries where it prevailed, the Reforma-
tion marks no real educational era. Much of the explanation
of this anomaly is found in the character of the Anglican
Church and in the manner of its establishment. The
Church of England was a compromise. Anglicanism lays
less emphasis than other Protestant bodies upon preaching
and teaching, and more upon rites, ceremonies, and tradi-
tion. Its appeal to the aesthetic nature is more direct and
powerful, but its appeal to the intellect is less so. Ac-
cordingly, high popular intelligence is less important.
Parliament is supreme alike over creed and canons.
Church government is from above, not from below; the
laity have nothing whatever to do with the appointment
and the installation of their ministers. Furthermore, the
English Church originated largely in State questions and
policies, and its form was shaped far more by the Crown
and Parliament than by the people themselves. Angli-
canism did not touch the springs of the national life in
England as Calvinism and lyUtheranism did in Scotland
or in Northern Germany.
Dissent, however, prevailed from the very beginning,
and tended to increase as time went on. As a rule. Dis-
senters have taken far more interest than Churchmen in
the education of the masses, but the constantly multiply-
ing ecclesiastical and theological divisions, begetting
different educational ideas, as well as great sectarian
strife and bitterness, have tended powerfully to retard the
erection of a State system of schools.
The second fact to be considered, and one closely con-
nected with the one just dismissed, is the original genius
of English society and the English government. This is
378 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
aristocrac3^ Until recent 5'ears the freedom of which
England so well boasted rested on an aristocratic rather
than a democratic basis. It was the great barons and the
Church dignitaries who resisted John and wrung from
him the charter of 1215. Afterwards the middle classes
were slowly admitted to a participation in political
affairs; but it was not until the Reform Bill of 1832 that
the center of gravity in the English system began to
shift, and even then it shifted so slowly that the nation
was not democratized until the great Enfranchisement Act
of 1867. And still there is no other country in Europe
where education is so distinctly organized on class lines.
The third fact, which lies behind and conditions both
the others, is the character of the English mind. It is
common for Continental writers to berate Englishmen for
their practical mental habit and their lack of ideas. M.
Guizot, for example, said whoever observed with some
degree of attention the genius of the English nation,
would be struck, on the one hand, by its steady good
sense and practical ability and, on the other, by its want
of general ideas and of elevation of thought on theoretical
questions. M. Taine depicts this aspect of the English
mind at much greater length and in much stronger lan-
guage. "The interior of an English head," he says,
" may not unaptly be likened to one of Murray's Hand-
books, which contains many facts and few ideas; a
quantity of useful and precise information, short statisti-
cal abridgments, numerous figures, correct and detailed
maps, brief and dry historical notices, moral and profitable
counsels in the guise of a preface, no view of the subject as
a whole, none of the literary graces, a simple collection of
well-authenticated documents, a convenient memorandum
for personal guidance during a journey." And again:
' ' The word ' to organize, ' which dates from the Revolu-
THE BACKWARDNESS OF EDUCATION IN ENGLAND. 379
tion and the First Empire, exactly summarizes the facul-
ties of the French mind, the success of well ordered and
distributive reason; the vast and happy effects of the art
which consists in simplifying, classifying, subtracting.^
The Germans are even less appreciative of the English
mind, or at least of English philosophy, than the French.
The pragmatical mental habit of the English, they make
a constant gibe. "Bacon's name," says Max Miiller,
' ' is never mentioned by German writers without one
provision, that it is only by a great stretch of the meaning
of the word, or by courtesy, that he can be called a philos-
opher. ' ' The Englishman retorts that the Germans are
dreamy andmystical. Matthew Arnold was always lament-
ing the small interest that his countrymen took in ideas.
Perhaps the Continental writers, as M. Taine, indulge
in some exaggeration; but there can be no doubt that
they lay their fingers on characteristic features of the
English mind. The typical Englishman delights in facts
and precedents; he is strongly attached to things accom-
plished, but extremely shy of things unaccomplished; he
has no love of comprehensive theories, general views, and
abstract principles; he dreads innovation; he has great
talent in patching up old systems, but no talent or liking
for setting up brand new ones. Lord Melbourne was a
typical Englishman; he belonged to the Whig, or so-
called Liberal, party; and one of the characteristic anec-
dotes of him is that, when Prime Minister, he invariably
met the innovators who came to him with novel ideas and
schemes of reform with the question, "Can't you let it
alone?"
The national genius is seen in all the characteristic
features of England. It is the country of incongruities,
* Notes on England, XXIX. Characteristics of the English
Mind.
380 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
contradictions, solecisms, and legal fictions. No country
better illustrates, in the social and political sphere, the
continuity of evolution, the persistence of growth; in
no country are there fewer traces of the theorist, the
doctrinaire, the codifier, or the S5'stem-maker; in no
country is a knowledge of history more necessary to
enable one to understand the existing order of things. In
fact, it is almost impossible to understand what is with-
out understanding /low it came to be. Mr. Fylfe, speaking
of the Universities, remarks:
Observers accustomed to the system and regularity of cen-
tralized states on the Continent have often noticed with some sur-
prise how in England institutions of an old, and even an obselete,
type are allowed to continue in existence after others more in
accordance with the needs of the time have sprung up by their
side. Revolution has never cleared the ground; corporations are
powerful: the public indulgent or illogical. And so it happens
that while the creating or reforming work of an epoch of change
abroad may be expressed almost by figures and dimensions, in
England we have to tell how one feature or another of some
venerable but narrow edifice is made tolerable for modern use;
how the designs of a middle time are developed or enlarged; and
in what form the workmen of our day have in their turn added to
the inheritance of the past. True for English institutions gener-
ally, this is peculiarly true of our Universities. ^
"Revolution," used by Mr. FyfFe, is a peculiarly sug-
gestive word in this place. At present the tendency of
historians and social philosophers is to belittle revolutions
and almost to abolish them; "evolution" and not "revo-
lution" is now the vogue; "institutions are not made,"
we are told, "they grow." Such is the tendency of
thought, and it is partly the effect and partly the cause of
the wide use of the historical method. It may be ques-
tioned whether this tendency is not over-strong; whether
» The Universities. In T. H. Ward's The Rei,e:n of Queen
Victo-ria, Vol. IT., p. 288.
THE BACKWARDNESS OF EDUCATION IN ENGLAND. 381
the new school is not too much rounding off the corners
of the old "epochs," " periods " and "ages;" whether
there are not facts that are not held by the flowing
curves of the popular writers on ' ' the unity ' ' and ' ' the
continuity of history. " However this may be, English-
men have more reason, at least historically, for adopting
the new view than men of the Continent. It is a long
time now since the foot of a hostile soldier has touched
English soil; a long time since a battle has been fought
within her borders; a long time since the State has been
torn by such feud or faction as required force for its sup-
pression. Society has not been disturbed b}^ violent con-
vulsions since the Civil War; the course of history has
been one of orderly development; which, again, is partly
the result and partly the cause of the prevailing mental
habit. The Restoration was peacefully effected ; the
Revolution was accomplished on the legal theory that
nothing had been done but to elect a new king in the room
of the old one who had abdicated the throne; Reform has
made its way from one victory to another, not indeed
without strong opposition, but without armed resistance.
Still the Revolution of 1789 stands for more than words
can tell in Europe, and most of all in France. It is not
an accident that M. Taine is able to connect "to or-
ganize ' ' with the Revolution and the First Empire. At
least, who can tell how different social, political, and edu-
cational history might have been in England, had the coun-
try been exposed to the storms of war that have swept
the countries across the Channel and the German Ocean.
Mr. Andrew Lang begins his delightful ' ' Historical
and Descriptive Notes of Oxford" with a description
that applies to the University almost as well as to the City.
Most old towns are like palimpsests, parchments which have
been scrawled over again and again by their successive owners.
382 STUDIES IN EDUCATION,
Oxford, though not one of the most ancient of English cities,
shows more legibly than the rest the hand-writing, as it w-ere, of
many generations. The convenient site among the interlacing
waters of the Isis and the Cherwell has commended itself to men
in one age after another. Each generation has used it for its own
purpose; for war, for trade, for learning, for religion; and war,
trade, religion, and learning have left on Oxford their peculiar
marks. No set of its occupants, before the last two centuries
began, was very eager to deface and destroy the buildings of its
predecessors. Old things were turned to new uses, or altered to
suit new tastes; they were not overthrown and carted away. Thus,
in walking through Oxford, you see everywhere, in colleges,
chapels, and churches, doors and windows which have been
builded up; or again, openings which have been cut where none
originally existed. The upper part of the round Norman arches
in the Cathedral has been preserved, and converted into the
circular buH's-eye lights which the last century liked. It is the
same everywhere, except where modern restorers have had their
way. Thus the life of England, for some eight centuries, may be
traced in the buildings of Oxford.
The English Secondary Schools exhibit the same incon-
gruities and inconsistencies, the same blending of the
antique and the modern, that are found in the Univer-
sities, though perhaps not to the same degree. And
much the same is true of the Elementary Schools also, at
least as regards their organization and machinery.
Still another fact to be considered is that elementary
education was long the exclusive work of individuals and
of voluntary associations. It was not until 1870 that the
Government took it vigorously in hand, and by that time
an organization had been developed too powerful for Gov-
ernment, so at least it thought, to disturb. Even then
the State did not dispense with the institutions which
individuals and private bodies had created, but rather sup-
plemented, extended, and nationalized them. Professor
Bryce thus illustrates the relation of the State and
National Governments in the American system:
THE BACKWARDNESS OF EDUCATION IN ENGLAND. 383
The central or National government and the State govern-
ments may be compared to a large building and a set of smaller
buildings standing on the same ground, j-et distinct from each
other. It is a combination sometimes seen where a great church
has been erected over more ancient homes of worship. First the
soil is covered by a number of small shrines and chapels, built at
diflFerent times and in different styles of architecture, each com-
plete in itself. Then over them and including them all in its
spacious fabric there is reared a new pile with its own loftier roof,
■ its own walls, which may perhaps rest on and incorporate the
walls of the other shrines, its own internal plan.*
This happy simile is no bad description of the sj-stem
created by the Elementary Education Acts. Consider-
able parts of the ground previous to 1870 were covered by
.small and independent systems; these have been connected,
the remaining parts of the ground covered, and the whole
incorporated into the sj^stem that now exists. A full
description of this system would be a somewhat trying
task. It is hard for a foreigner, studying at a distance,
to understand it. This is owing partly to the fact that it
is a growth, and not a structure reared according to any
general plan; partly to the extraordinary variety and con-
fusion of elements; and partly to the breadth of histor}'
one is compelled to traverse.
The course of events in the Northern Kingdom was
very different from that in England. Scotland early
showed that tendency to abstract thought which is so
strongly marked in the national character. The Protes-
tant Reformation gave Scotland a great impulse. The
type of theology that came into the ascendant greatly
stimulated the popular intelligence. No appeal to the Di-
vine Word could be more direct or powerful than the
appeal made by Knox and his compeers. The vScotch
Reformation began below and not above; it originated and
* The American Commonwealth, Part I., Chap. 2.
384 STUDIES IN EDUCATION.
flourished among the body of the nation, and not among
high civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries; in a word, it was
democratic, taking firm hold of the very roots of the
national life. So far from being propagated by or from, the
throne and the bishop's seat, it made its way against both
and finally overthrew them. While in England the Papal
supremacy was transferred to the Crown, in Scotland it was
destroyed, and the government of the Church was lodged
ultimately in the people themselves. While he was still
preaching in England, before he entered upon his great
work in his own country, Knox contended that schools for
the education of youth should be erected throughout the
nation. It was natural that, as soon as the Reformers began
to act for themselves, they took care to provide for learning
as well as piety. The " First Book of Discipline," com-
piled by a committee of which Knox was one, laid out a
far-reaching plan quite in advance of the times. It re-
quired that a school should be erected in every parish for
the instruction of youth in the principles of religion, gram-
mar, and the Latin tongue. It proposed that a college
should be established in every " notable town," in which
logic and rhetoric should be taught along with the learned
languages. The regulations of the framers for the three
National Universities discover an enlightened regard to
the interests of literature. These plans were not fully
carried out; but even as matters stood, and notwith-
standing the confusion in which the country was involved,
learning made great progress. The famous Burgh schools,
which have done so much for the country, date from this
period, and the University of Edinburgh was the child
of the Reformation.^
^See McCrie: Life of Knox, Period VII.
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